Don't Touch My Mudblood
by SkyeSloane
Summary: Okay, so I thought that being part Veela would be a damn good thing. But having that Mudblood Granger for a mate has proved to be deplorably dangerous to my health. DM/HG COMPLETE
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer**: characters, (fictional) places, creatures, little tidbits that are obviously not ours belong to the great JKR.

**Prologue**

Draco Malfoy raised his teacup to his lips and stared back at his father, Lucius. They were seating by a small round table in the parlour of their summer home in Kent. His mother, Narcissa, with her long blonde hair and grey eyes, sat beside him, holding his hand.

Draco was silent for a moment. At eleven years old, he had just received news about who he really was. But what it meant exactly, he wasn't sure.

"What exactly are Veelas?" Draco asked quietly as he placed his teacup back onto the saucer.

"Pure Veelas are beautiful creatures who attract people of the opposite gender with a certain kind of charm that can only be explained as magical," Lucius began to explain. "But when angered, they reveal their true selves, who happen to be scary creatures, with scales and a beak."

"So you're saying I'll have scales and a beak when I become angry?" Draco asked. "I think that's bloody brilliant!"

"No dear," Narcissa said as she brushed a strand of Draco's fine hair behind his ear. "You're only part Veela. Your father is part Veela. But I'm not."

"Ah well, I didn't think I could ever look ugly anyway," he said with a smirk. "So what exactly does being part Veela mean? Do I get superpowers and magical charms?"

Lucius suppressed his laugh. "Magical charms, to an extent, yes. But superpowers… Not so much. But for now, all you need to know is that Veelas are special creatures, whether in pure or part, and when they fall in love it'll be forever. And that's something nice to have, don't you think?"

Draco frowned. "Not particularly."

Once again, Lucius tried to keep himself from laughing out loud. Draco reminded him of himself when he was much younger. "One day we'll explain this to you in detail. But for now, drink your tea. It's getting cold."

Somewhere in the southwest of London, in a middle-sized first floor room of a middle-sized flat along Courtfield Close, a little girl with bushy brown hair and two rather large front teeth sat in front of the television watching a film on cable.

A tear rolled down her cheek which she quickly brushed away with the back of her hand. "I want a Mr Darcy of my own!" Hermione Granger sobbed as the closing credits began to appear on screen.

She heard a knock on her bedroom door, so she turned off the television as she stood up from the beanbag and opened the door for her mother.

Mrs Granger, who looked strikingly much like an older version of Hermione, stepped into the room, one hand on her hip. "So what have you been watching? You're all red-eyed again."

"Mum, do you think I'd ever find my own Mr Darcy?" Hermione asked as she plopped onto her bed.

"Hmmm… So, Pride and Prejudice, huh?" her mother asked.

"Yes, and now, I want my own Mr Darcy."

"You know," her mother said as she sat beside Hermione on the bed. "When I was younger, I used to write down the characteristics I liked in Mr Darcy and wished my own husband would be just like that."

"And what happened?"

"I met your father."

"Is Dad like Mr Darcy?" asked Hermione.

"Not exactly," Hermione's mother said with a rueful smile. "But close enough. He had everything I wrote down on that small piece of paper."

Hermione got off the bed and reached into her bedside drawer, brandishing a small notebook and a felt-tipped pen. "I'm going to do that then."

"Do what, honey?"

"Write down my own Mr Darcy, so that someday, I shall have it, too. Or someone close enough, at least."

Mrs Granger read what Hermione had written down from over her daughter's shoulder.

_My very own Mr Darcy should be:_

_Articulate_

_Handsome_

_Well-groomed_

_Well-travelled_

_Sweet_

_Intelligent_

_Cultured_

…_and will only love me. No one else._

**Authors' Notes: **Skye and I would just like to point out that due to our rather different writing styles (plus the many arguments during the making of this chapter); we will be writing the following chapters in a first person point of view. Skye (who is just as clever and pretty – as she put it; and even threw a coin at me for emphasis – as Hermione. And just as big a know-it-all as our darling muggle-born witch) will be writing Hermione's POV whilst I (dearest darling gorgeous Sloane) will be writing Draco's POV (seeing as I'm a bit of an obnoxious but lovely person such as him). Review if you please. –Sloane

TTFN! - Skye


	2. Aboard the Hogwarts Express

**Chapter One: Aboard the Hogwarts Express **

DRACO

I walked towards that dreadful Hogwarts Express (dirty, full of grime, carrying hundreds of Hufflepuff weaklings, Ravenclaw nerds and Gryffindor suck-ups) on the first day of September.

"Oy, Malfoy!" Adrian Pucey called out from the window in the compartment he was settled in along with two of my closest (and stupidest) friends, Crabbe and Goyle.

I nod my head towards them in acknowledgement. "Had a good summer?"

"Like you wouldn't believe!" he answered, then ducked his head back in to talk to someone behind him. "Tell you later in school," he called out before going back to the conversation they were having.

I go up the stairs and head toward the front car, in search of the prefects' compartment. I saw that Neville Longbottom made his way down the corridor towards the compartment he shared with the other Gryffindor idiots who weren't smart enough to make prefect. Too bad. I headed off towards the prefects' compartment (me being a Head Boy, mind you, but just had to share a compartment with the other lower beings) and slumped down to a seat next to Tracey Davis, a seventh-year Slytherin prefect. She swooned the moment she saw me. Sigh. Another groupie in the making.

"Hi Draco," she said, fluttering her eyes at me. An action I don't really get. Did mosquitoes somehow find their way inside her eyes to make it move that fast?

"Hello," I answer curtly.

Ever since I came of age and my Veela hormones started kicking in, I've had several girls falling all over me, using all sorts of tactics to get my attention. Over the summer, I've had girls purposely bumping into me, throwing handkerchiefs on the floor with hopes I pick it up for them (like I'd ever) and laughing out loud to the point of deafening people around them. Not that I could complain, I never had a vacant weekend off (unless I wanted to) and had my own collection of girls to pick from, not that I ever really took them seriously. Or slept with them. Contrary to popular belief, although I didn't bother to set the rumours straight.

And seated in front of me, the blood-traitor himself and sidekick to Scarhead, Ronald Weasley. And next to him, the other blood-traitor, the She-Weasel, Ginny Weasley and mudblood extraordinaire, Hermione Granger. I felt an opportune moment to annoy them to pieces present itself.

"And so the clock says to the mouse, 'look for it!'" he exclaimed in a voice only people of his social-standing would be able to do and laughed out loud as if there was no tomorrow. The two girls followed suit.

_What the bloody hell is so funny?_ I thought to myself, finding nothing hilarious about what he said (mainly because I wasn't there for the start of the joke, but I'd like to think it was just because he's as dull as a Seer looking into a crystal ball and foretelling lies).

Uh-oh. A smile crept up to my face at that moment. I swear I had nothing to do with it! I was planning to bombard them with all kinds of taunts and evilness galore. And besides, I did not understand the joke. I felt a warm glow, as if a ray of sunshine just spread throughout my body – an impossibility as not only was I in the confines of the train, but it was starting to drizzle outside and there was not a hint of sunlight. The smile got wider and wider that I was forced to cough and hide my ever increasing smile in my three hundred Galleon robe.

'Pardon me," I muttered to Tracey who was looking at me with a worried expression on her face and ran out the compartment before she offered help. No need for her to see me smiling gleefully out of nothing. Or even worse, she might find out that it was due to the Weasel that I was smiling.

Mouth, stop it, I commanded myself once I was safely outside the compartment. Unfortunately, it was a mouth and had no ears.

HERMIONE

September first has to be my favourite day of the year. Well, now that I think about it, it's not as great as Christmas Day. But it gave me a feeling of bliss all the same.

So there I was, in the prefects' compartment of the Hogwarts Express with Ron and Ginny. Ginny was made prefect, too! Mrs Weasley must be so proud. My Mum and Dad were when I received the owl from Hogwarts that contained my Head Girl's badge. I was so nervous. But now I'm just over the edge with pride and happiness to be going back to Hogwarts for my last and final year.

Ron was in the middle of telling a joke he apparently heard from Bill. And it was about this clock and a mouse. I'm absolutely dreadful when it comes to telling jokes, so I can hardly re-tell it without spoiling it all together. Anyway, I laughed so loud I swear a little pee came out.

That's when I noticed that Draco 'the Amazing Bouncing Ferret' Malfoy had entered the compartment and had sat beside the seventh year Slytherin prefect. Normally, I don't really care what Malfoy says or does, as long as he's not saying or doing it to me and my friends. But when he began looking at us, I reached into my jean pocket for my wand, just in case.

He was about to say something, of this I was certain. But he suddenly – and uncharacteristically – began to smile. And not some half-smile half-smirk he usually has plastered on his face, but a rather genuine all out smile. I didn't know the corners of his mouth extended that far. But at that point his smile was a full on grin.

I stopped laughing, Ron's joke now forgotten. This was a weird sight. Then Malfoy got up and out of his seat and suddenly burst out of the compartment and ran into the corridors, his hand over his mouth. For a moment there, I actually felt worried. But I simply brushed it off.

Then the hours passed by and we patrolled the corridors every now and then to make sure everything was in order and before I realised what time it was, the train began to slow down.

"We'd best change into our school robes now," Ginny said as we approached the prefects' compartment once again after our rounds.

"You're right," I said as I entered the prefects' compartment once again. "I suppose we've arrived."

As soon as we alighted from the train I heard the familiar hollering of Hagrid, Hogwarts' Game Keeper and Care of Magical Creatures professor.

"Firs' years! Over here!" said the towering man in his great furry cloak and dragon hide boots. "Firs' year! Oy there 'Arry! Ron, Hermione, how was yer summer?"

We all nodded and agreed that the summer has, indeed, been the same as always. Mine was simple and carefree, which I had spent with my family in Italy. Ron's was most probably crazy, as usual, spent in the Burrow with his great big family. Harry's was most certainly torture, what with his weird relatives. And it was only two weeks before the first day of September that Harry and I were able to spend the remainder of our summer holidays with the Weasleys.

Harry, Ron, Ginny and I loaded ourselves into a thestral-driven carriage and we were soon joined by Neville and Luna.

"Harry," Ron said, a thoughtful look upon his face. "The weirdest thing happened in the prefects' compartment on the ride over."

I quickly looked at Ron, wondering if he noticed Malfoy's strange behaviour as well.

"It was that ferret," Ron continued with the story, telling everyone about how Malfoy began to, seemingly, laugh at his joke before he started having a coughing fit and brusquely left the compartment.

"It must have been the knargles," Luna said knowingly with her pleasingly dreamy voice. "Must have been flying around in the compartment and entered Malfoy's ear. My father did an article on them a few months back."

I just smiled. By this time I have gotten used to Luna's tall tales. But I turned towards Ron and said, "So you noticed it, too, then? I thought it was just me imagining things."

"How can you not notice?" asked Ginny. "It was the first time I ever saw Malfoy smile."

Harry took this in with a few nods thrown here and there. But I knew he was not letting this go lightly. Knowing Harry, he most certainly had this jotted down in his little mental notebook of all weird and unusual Malfoy moments.

As soon as the Sorting was done and everyone was watered and fed, we all trooped back into our perspective Common Rooms, as the prefects and Heads made sure everyone went on their way in an orderly fashion.

The moment I laid my head on my pillow, I knew for a fact that it wouldn't take much for me to fall asleep that night. And within seconds, I did.

--

**Authors' Notes**: Thank you to all those who reviewed in the previous chapter. We love you all and we really hope that this chapter does justice to the story. Seeing as we've segmented this chapter into two different perspectives, we're not really sure how you (our dear reader) would react to it. At any rate, we want to know what you think (we read all the reviews good and bad - though thankfully we haven't come across a bad review yet) so please, do leave a review. Thanks:) -SkyeSloane


	3. Curiouser and Curiouser

**Chapter Two: Curiouser and Curiouser**

DRACO

The following day, I tried to reassure myself that whatever happened on the train the day before was a massive disaster on my part but was never bound to happen again. It was probably something I ate.

I walked up the stairs to the Great Hall for breakfast from the Slytherin dormitories with Crabbe and Goyle flanking my sides (my well-trained friends, bless their little pseudo-souls. I say jump, they ask how high? I say heel, they walk a step behind. I say, ooh ice cream, they look around for the source) and protecting me from imminent danger – not that there'd be much danger in Hogwarts. Except for the probable clash with Mr Potty and his dearest associate whom I was starting to think was actually his lover-man.

We took our usual seating arrangement in the Slytherin table with me in between them and in front of Pucey who was seated next to Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson. The food spread out was not bad, although last night's welcoming feast was loads better. Crabbe and Goyle quickly pounced on the food like desperate male dogs in heat humping a pole. Me? I had more pressing thoughts in my mind.

Seated directly across me in the Gryffindor table was St Potter and his merry group of friends with smiles plastered on their faces. (Did they ever stop smiling?)

I stood up and motioned for Crabbe and Goyle to follow suit (who looked sadly down at their food they were devouring before standing up as well) and we walked over to the Gryfindor table.

The looks on Potter and Co's faces suddenly tensed up and turned to scrutinising frowns, fury being more evident on the Boy-Who-Unfortunately-Lived.

"Malfoy," he growled.

"Potter," I said with a fake cheery smile that they obviously did not believe. "Wonderful to see you again this school year, see the Dark Lord still hasn't done you in. How… unfortunate."

Then suddenly, an unexpected sense of rage surged through my body like one I've never felt before. This feeling doubled the highest level of anger I've ever felt before and I had to say, it was very unsettling. I mean, I did hate the man, but I didn't think I'd feel this strongly about it. I don't think I even want to feel that strong anger towards him. You know, because of the thought that the feeling of hate could easily transcend to love and I didn't want to feel that enormous sense of rage suddenly turn to love. And directed towards _him_ of all people. Disgusting.

The She-Weasel then stood up and pointed her wand at me menacingly.

"Are you mocking me with that silly thing?" I scoffed, doubting she had the nerve to hex me. "It's hard to believe you actually made prefect. It's hard to believe that anyone from your clan would make prefect actually, let alone be able to afford an education – seeing as how classless and deprived the lot of you are."

"Leave us alone, Malfoy," came the quiet reply of the mudblood with hair styled after a lion's mane. She must love being a Gryffindor that much that she actually exemplified the house's animal symbol.

I glared at her with utmost disgust. "Don't you dare try speaking to me, mudblood," I berated her, practically spitting out the words. "You and your kind don't even deserve to live, breathe and _be_ here, let alone speak to purebloods. Mind your position in this place," I hissed at her.

I saw the Weasley lover-boy's hands roll into fists ready to attack at any moment. Crabbe and Goyle, sensing that their help was about to be needed, quickly moved forward and crossed their arms over their chests, looking as horrendously threatening as possible.

But at that moment, I felt another deep swell of emotion run through me but this time around, it was something unfamiliar. I felt… _hurt_? And oh bloody hell, my eyes started to well up in tears. The last time I ever cried was when I was a newborn baby trying to take in my first breath of air. Oh this was so humiliating. And in front of Crabbe and Goyle as well! Ah who am I kidding, they wouldn't take notice of it. But I saw that Potter was giving me a curious look.

Bugger.

I quickly turn around without so much as a look at any of them and hurry back to Slytherin table before the tears come pouring out and shovel forkfuls of scrambled eggs in my mouth, leaving Crabbe and Goyle in a state of confusion before retreating back to the table. Thankfully they didn't say a word, they just looked happy to be back in the loving arms of their sadly disrupted meal.

What the bloody hell just happened?

I return to a conversation of Quidditch with Pucey and Zabini and even Parkinson who kept butting in every so often faking knowledge of the subject though I strongly doubted that she even knew the difference between a Bludger and a Quaffle. I tried to erase the thought from my mind. It was insane. Ridiculous. Maybe it had something to do with Potter. Yeah, that's right; he's probably been putting me under a curse or slipping some weird hormonal-inducing potion into my drinks.

Students started standing up and vacating the Great Hall and I noticed that those around us just finished clearing their plates. It was time for the first subject of the day. I peered at my time-table. That meant Charms for me, Zabini and Pucey (Crabbe and Goyle, sadly but not surprisingly, didn't make it to NEWT level Charms). Oh well. I started to clear my plate as well when I felt another strange feeling pass through me. It was painful – and not like the hurt- tears-welling-up kind of pain. No, this was more physical. My body started to burn, perspiration beaded the sides of my face and excruciating pain followed.

I screamed out in pain and clutched my chest. "Bloody hell…" I say silently and doubled over, grabbing onto the table for support. It felt like someone was holding a chokehold grip on my heart and wanted to pull it out of my chest.

"Draco, what's wrong?" Pansy asked, immediately by my side.

The rest of the Slytherins looked at me in curiosity. Pucey looked at me in concern. "You alright mate?" he asked.

I looked up at them and nodded my head weakly. At that point I was already buckled up at my knees and was struggling to stay conscious. I slowly stood up a minute later after having felt the pain disappear.

_Did I just have a bout of heart attack? _I thought to myself_. But I'm only seventeen!_ I looked around the room to see who else saw what happened. Thankfully, not a lot of students were left in the Great Hall. Granger and her carrot-top friend saw what happened. Pfft. Didn't care much about them. And walking out the doors of the Great Hall, I saw the Weasel girl shyly remove her hand from Potter's hold. How sickening.

I shook my head. Definitely strange. I was being abnormally hormonal. I shrug the concerned looks of my friends away and secluded myself into a spot on the table and quickly pull out parchments of papers and my ink and quill. I had a letter to write and it was addressed to my father. I needed confirmation and it looks like my worst fears were about to come to life.

HERMIONE

I was practically on the verge of tears at what Malfoy had said. Thankfully he left before my tears could pour out. Imagine how embarrassing it would have been if he caught me crying.

Once everyone was done with breakfast, and our class schedules were distributed, I grabbed my book bag and stood up from the Gryffindor table. I saw Harry and Ginny leaving the long table, as well. I smiled as Harry took her hand and led her to the huge double doors.

"Hey, Hermione," Ron said as he stood beside me, placing his hand on the small of my back. "You okay?"

I nodded and checked my schedule for the day. First subject was Herbology, Greenhouse number 3.

"Did you see how that bloody ferret was almost crying?" Ron asked as he led me away from the Gyffindor table, his arm protectively snaking its way around my waist. "Unbelievable."

Then suddenly a blood curdling scream pierced the air. The nearly empty hall suddenly fell quiet. I shifted away from Ron to find the source of the painfully eerie cry. My eyes landed on Malfoy who was doubled over, bent from the waist, holding on to the Slytherin table for support. His face was overcome with anguish, his grey eyes wide open.

I looked up at Ron who looked just as confused as I was feeling at that moment. For the past two days, Malfoy had displayed strange and unusual emotions. The emotions in themselves were semi-normal. But the fact that they came from Malfoy, who had an emotional range the size of a teaspoon, puzzled me. His face never held pain and hurt and fears before. His features were by and large reserved for contempt, pride and dislike.

But as soon as I looked over to the Slytherin table I saw him seemingly fine, that Pansy Parkinson girl by his side.

The instant Ron and I stepped out of the Great Hall we fell into step with Harry and headed towards the exit for the Hogwarts grounds.

"Ginny's first class is Transfiguration," Harry said, a contented smile on his face.

"Harry," I spoke up, my brows furrowed in uncertainty. "Did you hear Malfoy scream in there?"

"He was his usual insulting self, Hermione," answered Harry. "But he was in no way screaming."

"No, mate," Ron said. "As we were leaving the hall, Malfoy screamed all of a sudden. He looked… He looked like he was in pain."

"Do you reckon the Dark Lord's calling? Maybe Malfoy has the Dark Mark tattooed on his arm?" Harry asked, suddenly curious.

I shook my head. "I'm not sure what it is," I answered as we walked past the vegetable patch towards the third Greenhouse from the left. "But somehow I don't think it's because of You-Know-Who."

"Maybe he's sick with some incurable disease," Ron said, a slight hop to each of his step. "And he's dying."

Now Harry shook his head. "I don't think so."

"But he did look like he was in terrible pain," I said, recalling the look on Malfoy's face as he clutched the edge of the Slytherin table. "He was in agony, his face all scrunched up like that. His eyes wide with…I don't know, fear, maybe?"

Ron laughed. "Since when did you start noticing Malfoy's eyes?"

Harry snorted.

"You got a crush on Malfoy now?" Ron said jokingly.

I forced a laugh. But somehow, my mind wouldn't let go of how Malfoy looked that morning.

Even as we began with Herbology class, my mind was somewhere else. And this puzzled me. Why was I worrying about Malfoy when I was clearly supposed to be focusing on those silly, and utterly venomous, African Blossoming Bane, which we were supposed to be removing thorns from?

I sighed as I nipped my finger for the nth time in the past thirty minutes. Professor Sprout was looked over at me, and her brows creased with shocked curiosity.

I had to clear my mind. How can I still be thinking about Malfoy? I tried to free my head of everything else and to focus on de-thorning the gigantic native African plant in front of me. But every time the wounds of the plant, where the thorns were removed from, oozed with silver sap, Malfoy's pained grey eyes swam lazily in the back of my mind. And _nip_! I just cut myself again.

"You okay?" Harry asked as he sidled next to me, leaving his own African demon, which, for the record, was perfectly de-thorned, behind.

Again, at a loss for words, I simply nodded.

"I just can't stop thinking about Malfoy and how strange he was before leaving breakfast this morning," I answered, trying to take out one stubborn thorn which kept moving out of my clippers' way.

Ron, who stood on my other side, began laughing his head off. "Hermione's got it bad."

"What do you mean?" I asked absentmindedly as the stupid thorn once again avoided the clippers.

"Is this Hermione with a crush?" Ron teasingly asked Harry.

I rolled my eyes. "I do not have a crush, and especially not on Malfoy," I said defiantly, my mind trying to push those silly grey eyes away. And _nip_!

--

**Author's Notes:** Another chapter up, yay and woo. Haha. Believe me, it was hard to track down Skye to finish her part of the story as she's utterly busy with work. As for me, a new term is up and running and the professors are _harsh_ to say the least (I was given a reading 150 pages long and will have to report for orals in three days!), they are sadistic, I tell you, _sadistic_!! Well anyway, this is just a warning that with the many responsiblities we have, we might not be able to update as quickly as we would want to (though with many coaxing and reviews, we probably can make time lol (wink wink - what's that? No, I'm not twitching. Oh alright then, hint hint.) so don't forget to leave something pretty for us lol).

To our gorgeous reviewers, we thank you. **WinnieThaPoo92**: I know the feeling! Then people would look at you funny because there's really nothing and no one to smile about. lol. **from me:** We're glad you liked it. :) we had a hard time coming up with titles and so it ended up being a game of Lousiest Titles Ever Imaginable, to which Skye takes credit for. I thought about it and it was actually a workable title. lol. :) To **playful**, **lilian**, **JustAnAfterthought** (aw shucks, you really didn't have to!), **Princess of Darkness17**, **Intricacy** (I came up with the concept and not the other way round, just in case Skye tries to take credit (looks round the room. Whew, no Skye around) so yay! and thanks) :), **Writer Of Mysteries**, **nadia the demented one** and **JellyFishy** (our first ever reviewer!).

OK, longest end-notes ever! Whew. No worries, it's come to an end. :) Thanks for reading and we really hope you like it:) -Sloane


	4. BloodTraitor Aversion

**Warning: **Complete non-Canon-ness ahead. :-)

**Chapter Three: Blood-Traitor Aversion**

DRACO

I couldn't concentrate. My charms were blasting off every which way and finally, after a good thirty minutes and a catastrophic shattering of window panes later, Professor Flitwick asked me to sit this one out for the time-being and had me report to the library instead to do some research on wandless magic (seeming to think that I was incapable of the actual act of wandless magic – which was a laugh to say the least). I was usually a good student (well, one of the best to be more precise – something my Head Boy badge would be glad to vouch for) and wandless magic was something I've been doing since age fifteen (nonverbal spells at the age of thirteen, but who's asking?).

Nevertheless, I was glad to escape from class. I had a lot going on in my mind and would rather be in solitude to sort it all out. I trudged up the stairs to the library, thankful that the stairs didn't move this time. Madame Pince looked at me with piercing eyes, most probably thinking that I was skiving class. She is the saddest person alive, honestly. (Well, only second to Filch but she takes the prize for Saddest Woman Alive). I hand over a note from Flitwick to which she studied it carefully – too carefully with scepticism written all over her face. Finally, she handed it back to me and with a curt nod of her head, she went back to her paperwork signalling that I was free to go about and do my research.

I rolled my eyes (once I turned my back to her) and headed towards the Advanced Charms and Spells section at the back end of the room and grabbed several books here and there – not exactly paying attention nor caring as to what books I got. It's got to be in one of them anyway.

I settled myself comfortably on an escritoire next to an impossibly enormous window pane on the west side of the room and started reading the first book I laid my hands on. It didn't really have the answers Flitwick was asking for, but it was a good read and kept me interested for quite sometime, until an annoying tapping of the window broke into my thoughts. I looked up to see Rosalie, my eagle owl, fluttering excitedly with a note attached to her feet.

Looking round the room, checking to see if Minced Pince was anywhere near me, I quietly opened the window to let Rosalie in, shushing her noisy wings to silence.

"Sorry, I don't have a treat with me at the moment," I apologised and took out the neatly rolled up parchment she carried. "I'll be sure to give you one before dinner though, is that good enough for you?"

She looked at me disdainfully – a Malfoy trait, I'm pleased to say – but still gave my finger a gentle nip in acceptance. She flew back out the window towards the Owlery and I hurriedly unrolled the parchment, knowing full well that it was from my father.

_Draco –_

_The symptoms you tell me of are precisely the indications of you having found your mate. And much as I should be glad, it troubles me – to say the least – that you're destined for a blood-traitor. Still, facts may not have been gathered quite carefully and meticulously and so I'm hoping you just read it all wrong. For this reason, I've arranged that we meet in the Three Bromsticks in Hogsmeade at 6 o'clock tonight to analyse this situation even more. Dumbledore has granted his permission and Severus will see to it that you get there safely._

_In the meantime, I know of a potion that will help you find out who your true mate is. Enclosed is a clipping of the list of ingredients and the procedure to making the potion. I'm certain you'll be able to do it on your own. If not, Severus will guide you through it. Unfortunately, it takes a fortnight for the potion to brew. For now, we leave things as it is._

_I'll see you at 6._

He left it unsigned, but there was no doubt the elegant script and one of a kind parchment belonged to my father. I arched an eyebrow. We leave things as it is? That just won't do. I didn't really care for being bipolar and needless to say, I was feeling sick to my stomach as I headed back towards the Great Hall for lunch without finishing my Charms research.

It was time for another episode.

I scanned the hall in search of the Weasley girl. She hadn't arrived yet. With a sigh of relief, I headed towards the Slytherin table and grabbed an apple and a turkey leg and quickly left, ignoring the curious looks my friends were giving me.

Once safely outside, I gulped as I saw girl Weasley walk towards the Great Hall with the dreamy kid people called Loony and the Gryffindor Trio. I averted my eyes and brushed past them and headed towards the Owlery to give Rosalie her treat. It was hard to ignore the gaping mouth Boy Weasel was giving me but I let it go nonetheless. If I stopped to hit him, I just may very well end up crying again.

--

I ran towards Snape's dungeon, swearing fluently at myself for being late. I was still speculating the thought of marriage with Ginny Weasley (I shudder at the name) and was mourning with Rosalie. I couldn't help it – it seemed inevitable that I would end up with her. And Malfoys weren't exactly known for their optimism.

I quietly walked in the dungeon and took my usual seat next to Zabini. Snape gave me a dangerous glare but didn't say a word and continued on with his lecture. Naturally, the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs looked at Snape in disbelief whilst the Gryffindors looked at me with death wishes clearly plastered all over their faces. I simply smiled (knowing it would irritate them even more) and pulled out my textbook, parchment, ink and quill and set them neatly on my desk.

"Where did you go?" Zabini asked me in a low voice but not so much a whisper that I knew Snape heard us.

"The Owlery," I answered and uncapped my ink bottle. It cost me ten galleons but it was worth it. It was green ink and charmed so that every dot of an 'I' I write would become the Slytherin logo. Yes, I was impressed as well.

"And?" he asked, wanting to know more.

"And I overstayed, apparently," I said with a roll of my eyes. "Hey, have you seen this ink yet? Look," I said and wrote down 'Slytherin' on a piece of parchment. Instantly, the Slytherin logo appeared atop the letter I.

"Brilliant," he breathed out, his eyes widening. "Where'd you get that?" he demanded.

"Cyprus," I said smugly. "Ten galleons a bottle and I bought about five."

"I want one," he said greedily. "I'll buy one from you – twenty galleons."

"Uh-uh," I tutted. "I bought them especially for my use only…"

Zabini glared at me with dislike.

"But… I'll give you one for free –"

"What's the catch Malfoy?" he asked, knowing I needed something from him,

"I need your help. I'm brewing this potion you see, and it's far complicated for me alone to do it. I'd ask Snape, but you know how obtrusive he can be."

He thought this over for a while and then nodded in agreement. "As long as it won't kill me, why not?"

I chuckled at his question. Kill him indeed. "Not at all Zabini," I said with a smile. "I'll tell you the details after dinner."

I dipped my quill into my ink bottle again and then, with the help of my stupid robes, the bottle toppled over, spilling a mass of green ink all over the desk.

I sighed and heard Zabini try to suppress his laughter. I glared at him and picked up the ink bottle, now almost empty. I Evanesco'd the ink that was splattered on the desk feeling miserable, ignored him, and tried concentrating on the lesson.

Unfortunately, there was no lesson to speak of at that time as it was interrupted by Snape giving Granger another lecture on her helping her friends cheat off her. _Stupid Mudblood_, I thought to myself. It was so idiotic of her to spoon-feed her friends and not let them learn anything for themselves at all. It was almost selfish to a certain degree (which I couldn't help but commend, Mudblood or not, it was somewhat cunning). If I were born underprivileged like certain red-heads I know, I would've clapped, whistled and called out 'Well done, Professor!' and magicked balloons and streamers to hang on the walls.

Fortunately, underprivileged I was not. So I just sat there silently. I would've smiled, if not for the fact that I just threw away a good ten galleons worth of ink and was feeling a little dismal myself.

An hour later, Snape dismissed us and we all queued at the exit. Suddenly, a warm feeling spread over me – the exact same feeling I had in the Hogwarts Express and I was smiling stupidly. There was a ray of sunshine yet again and my tongue desperately wanted to spurt out glorious lines of poetry.

Looking round, I saw Loony and the Weaslette standing outside by the doors and talking animatedly with Potter, Weasley and Granger.

_Oh quel dommage!_

HERMIONE

As clever as Snape may be, he always had been and always will be a pain in the you-know-where. And for the record, I was not letting Ron copy off me, how dare he insinuate that. Was it my fault my parchment fell off the table and Ron helped me pick them up?

So the short and short of it is, Potions was its usual abysmal self and was I ever so glad to get out of the dungeons. Potions was our last class for the day and as Ron, Harry and I stepped out of Snape's room, we were greeted by Luna and Ginny. I was feeling loads happier.

Oh, and bollocks to that little ferret who had a stupid smile plastered on his face. He must be beside himself with glee upon witnessing me being verbally abused yet again by Snape. And, of course, leave it to the Potions Master to totally ignore Malfoy's tardiness. If it were any of the Gryffindors who stepped into the dungeons a mere fraction of a second after the hour, we would have been tortured mercilessly.

But I pushed that out of my mind as I smiled brightly at Ginny as we fell into happy chatter about the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend that was coming up.

"Fred and George just opened a branch in Hogsmeade," Ginny said brandishing a piece of parchment from within her robe. "They sent me post saying that the joke shop would be up and running by the time we get to visit Hogsmeade this weekend."

"You're kidding," Ron exclaimed, grabbing the parchment from Ginny's outstretched hand that was waving about. "Why didn't they tell me?"

Ron quickly scanned through the letter.

"Well, they must like me better," Ginny said with a giggle.

Harry smiled. "That would kill Filch," he said as he took Ginny's hand into his own. "He hated Fred and George."

"Still does," Ron said handing Ginny back the post. "He has anything and everything coming from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes banned in school. But that doesn't keep the twins from being more inventive with their packaging."

I had to smile at that. The Weasley twins, though not much when it came to academics, were far beyond creativity and ingenuity. And despite leaving school midway through their seventh year, I had to admit, their little joke shop did contain some extraordinary magic.

We then headed for the Entrance Hall, not letting the good clear day be wasted by spending it indoors.

"Harry," Ron said as we left the misty castle and headed towards the Great Lake. "Summon your broom; let's practice some new moves I learned over the summer."

As the boys and Ginny continued to talk Quidditch, Luna and I found ourselves a comfortable spot underneath a tree by the lake's shoreline.

Soon after, Harry was speeding by on his Firebolt that he, Ginny and Ron were taking turns using to practice some dangerous looking moves. Luna was throwing a couple of pebbles into the Great Lake, tempting the Giant Squid to show itself. And she did succeed, thrice, the monster splashing water towards the shore in its annoyance.

I leaned my head against the tree trunk, closed my eyes and sighed. I hoped the entire year stayed this way. I wished the war didn't have to happen. And truth be told, I wished I didn't have to leave school.

But for that day, I smiled and relished in the peaceful moments we shared.

Opening my eyes and looking up at the castle behind me, I knew it. It was going to be one hell of a term.

--

Just when I thought I had finally gotten Malfoy off my mind, dinner that night just had to prove me wrong. And it was not because, as Ron just loved to put it, I had a crush on the stupid Slytherin.

As soon as I took my place between Ginny and Seamus by the Gryffindor table, I glanced up to see a particular blonde missing from the table to the far side of the room. And it wasn't healthy to be thinking about him. Not to mention so unlike me. So I had no idea why I was suddenly curious as to where he was that evening. It was none of my business and I had to keep it that way.

I tried to pretend to be interested in what the others were talking about, but to no avail, because unfortunately, I knew squat about Quidditch. The only thing I had to say was "As long as we win the match against Slytherin, and get the Quidditch Cup, that's all that matters to me."

"But that can't happen if we lose to the other two houses," Seamus said as he waved his fork in the air, trying to emphasize his point. "That's why, Harry, as I was saying, we have to still win against Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff because is just wouldn't look good."

"And you know they've, once again, scheduled the Slytherin – Gryffindor game for last. You know how they just love the entire rivalry," Ron explained, his mouth half-full. "The pitch is always packed during our games. No one really cares if Ravenclaw beats Hufflepuff or vice versa, they all know that the most important game is the one between us... and Slytherin."

Again, I tuned out.

--

**Authors' Notes: **Thanks for all the wonderful reviews. They are, as you all know, truly appreciated. For all the silent readers, that's fine, really. But we'd love it even more if you left a comment, or two, by simply clicking that little button below. But if you've added the story to your favourites and have it on your alert list, that's great. However, isn't it the least for you to leave one short review, also? Just a thought. No pressure. Really, no pressure for you to click on that small little button. No pressure at all. Hope y'all wait for the next chappie. But for now… Goodnight. I gotta get some sleep, I'm right knackered. TTFN! - Skye

Right then. Quick apologies as we couldn't update quite as quickly as we wanted to (busy, busy you see) but we hope this can make up for it. I wanted to add fluffness to it but, I can't - too early in the story. Haha. Ho-hum. Anyway, as usual, thanks be to our ever generous and always lovely reviewers whom we just positively _adore. :) _**Lady Sorciere** (extremely pleased you liked it seeing as you're not really a DHr shipper - have we changed your mind yet? lol). **Kitematsu** (we try our best to update fast but it's proving hard to do :s). To **irockupurple**, **ca803**, **Vinwinz** and **Torry-Riddle**: THANK YOU:) xx **Little Angel of Light** (lol, quite a comment you had, I loved it) and **WinnieThaPoo92** as much as we would want to say that, yes indeed, we got it off Lewis Carrol, to sound smart... we didn't. :( We haven't even read the book yet (watched the film though, does that count? lol). Skye just thought it up one spontaenous moment and well.. here we are now. Heh. ANYWAY. Hope you liked this chapter and review if you please :) we love them. -Sloane


	5. A Quidditch Match to Remember

**Chapter Four: A Quidditch Match to Remember**

DRACO

At five-thirty in the afternoon, I knocked on Snape's door, anxious to leave for Hogsmeade. He opened it, looked at me for a second or two, and went back inside to retrieve his cloak to keep warm. "Let's go," he said.

Finally.

We walked out (or rather _I _did, when Snape walks, he more like sweeps across the floor with his billowing robes) the gates of the castle where a thestral-driven carriage was patiently waiting for us.

"Your father explained you'll need several ingredients for the Mate Locator potion. I already have several of those which you need. The rest, your father has purchased via owl post and will send it to me as soon as he receives it."

"Right," I said, hoping he won't get in the way. I wanted to brew the potion on my own, not with a hovering godfather watching your every move and making sure you don't blow up an important limb of your body.

He looked at me knowingly. "I, of course, will always be available for help, should you need it. You cannot brew the potion in the dormitory – it's restricted. You might endanger other students and other students may watch in curiosity and find out what's going on, among other reasons why. I'm under the impression that you want to keep this discreet, yes?"

I nodded in reply.

"You may be permitted to use the Potions classroom at night after curfew hours. Professor Dumbledore has agreed with this, and has excused you from Head Boy duty one night a week and every Saturday and Sunday night."

I nodded again. The carriage slowed down to a stop and we were now right in front of the Three Broomsticks. Snape gave me a small smirk – the only smile he would ever give a student – and raised his arm in a sort of goodbye.

"Your father will see to it that you return to the castle grounds safely. Have a nice supper."

And with that, the carriage rushed off, leaving me standing outside the shop on my own.

--

"Are you positive your only prospect of a mate is Ginny Weasley?" Father asked, distaste obviously written all over his face.

I nodded sombrely. "Imagine that, Arthur and Molly Weasley will have their names written on our Malfoy family tree."

Back at home, we have a huge tapestry hung over the wall in the entranceway that was the Malfoy Family Tree – a necessity in all pureblood houses.

"Don't say that," he said sharply. "Nothing's final until the potion does its work." He massaged his temples and took a quick swig from his Firewhisky. "Were there any other people present during the times these mood swings were happening?"

I shrug. "Several other people were in the Great Hall," I said. We were sitting in a corner in the Three Broomsticks having just finished eating dinner and I already told him all the details of every hormonal imbalance that happened to me and we were on our second hour reassessing everything, backward and forward. "Parkinson, Bulstrode, Zabini..." I added the last name as a sort of joke.

"Anyone present in all accounts of all the incidents?" he pressed, not seeming to get the joke. Sigh. He's becoming an old fart more and more.

"Erm, well, no. Davis and Pritchard were in the Hogwarts Express compartment but they left the Great Hall earlier and weren't there when the heart attack happened – but I don't s'pose they have to be in the same room, do they?"

"At your stage, they do," Father said, explaining that I've still just come of age and that my Veela senses were still a bit young and underdeveloped and emotions only come when the mate is in the same room as me. Ha! Right, the major heart attack didn't _feel_ as underdeveloped as he so carelessly says the reaction should be.

"Trust me, if this happened a year from now, you'd be lying strapped to a bed in St Mungo's" he said. "Who else?"

"The sixth year Ravenclaw was in both the compartment and Great Hall but is not taking up NEWT Potions with me…"

At that last line, Father perked up a bit. "Ginny Weasley doesn't take NEWT Potions with you either, does she? She's a year below."

"Yes, but I told you, she was outside the classroom waiting for her brother and his friends smiling like a bleeding twat – she was present the time I felt majestically happy that I wanted to recite bloody poetry!"

"Yes, yes, I know that, but you said you felt saddened _during_ class – Weasley was not yet there! And don't tell me it's because you dropped your stupid ten galleon ink bottle, you know very well you can purchase more of that and it's incredibly idiotic of you to think that a _Malfoy_ would be depressed because of that."

I thought this over for a while. He certainly did have a point. "Well Boy Weasley was there as well, are you suggesting that he and I may be destined for each other?" I sneered.

Father looked nonchalant. "It happens."

My jaw dropped wide open. "You're joking."

"There have been several accounts, not a lot, but there have been instances wherein the Veela never had any inkling towards the same gender but their mates proved them wrong."

What. The. Bloody. _Fuck_.

"I will not – I will not have any sort of affair with a… with a _man_!" I spluttered. "A blood-traitor is one thing, but a _male_ blood-traitor? I would rather _die_."

"Well, if you let that Ronald Weasley slip and find another, you just may very well die. Veelas can't stand rejection and their defence system will force them to shut down and die," he sniggered. The bastard. Just because he came up lucky with a goddess doesn't mean he can laugh at my expense (it's not Oedipus Rex Syndrome or incest, it's because I came from her and well, I'm a god myself).

I glared at him.

"Look, it can't be Ginny Weasley – we now know that for a fact. We can wait for two weeks and have the potion do its magic. But I think it'd be better if we were a bit more prepared."

"Potter was there as well," I said dully, now including names of male classmates in all seriousness. "He wasn't in the compartment though. Mudblood Granger was there on all accounts but she couldn't possibly be my mate – she hasn't any magical blood."

Father's face froze up. Stoic and statuesque. "No," he whispered.

All blood inside me stopped flowing. No way. No bleeding way. "B-b-but… she's a _Mudblood_," I said, my voice dripped with revulsion and my brain shut down. Just a string of '_No, can't be, no, Mudblood_' kept going through my mind.

"This is a magical thing – shouldn't it be limited only to people with magical blood? Are they not excluded from this… this… this _curse?_" I almost yell as soon as I found my voice again. "She's a fucking _Mudblood_, Father!"

"Settle down," he hissed at me, seeing my reaction caused several customers to look at me. "It isn't limited to anything – I've told you about the same gender attraction, have I not? I don't want a Mudblood tainting our family either, hundreds of generations of purebloods and you end up with a muggle-born – you must hurry with the potion. We have to find out once and for all who your mate is."

"Aren't there any reversals or counter-spells or any loopholes to this thing?" I asked quietly. I didn't think there would be, I could only hope.

Father grimly shook his head no.

--

_A week and three days later_

HERMIONE

I never really understood Quidditch, and I doubt I ever will. But that didn't stop me from attending all those matches, and especially those played against Slytherin – no, especially not those.

Those games were hard to watch – not that I watched much of the matches, having to semi-cover my eyes behind my hand when things got a bit out of hand. And they always were when we played Slytherin. The two houses were always neck and neck; they were the two best Quidditch teams Hogwarts has ever seen. Or actually, not so much, but the rivalry spawned blind hatred. And since Harry was the best Seeker ever, that just meant that Slytherin had to keep up, no matter the consequences, no matter what it took. They just had to measure up.

And it was obvious the way they played that Saturday morning. The stands were filled to the brim, as per usual. I also had my eyes half covered, as always. Not much really mattered to me during these games, just so long as we won. And we mostly always did.

I couldn't name half of the techniques, strategies and moves each of the teams executed perfectly. Truth be told, I didn't know more than half, nor could I tell if they were executed perfectly or not. But it looked like it.

I saw Harry circling above the rest, keeping an eye out for the Snitch. And Malfoy, it seemed, was keeping an eye on Harry.

The rest of the teams were tossing the Quaffle from one player to the other. The Bludgers were continuously flying here and there, trying to unbroom players from the opposing team. The score was Gryffindor 80 to Slytherin's 40.

I had no one to cheer with seeing as how both Harry and Ron were on the team. And ever since two years ago, so was Ginny. The chanting went on, "Well done, Gryffindor," the scarlet-donned students would yell every time the Quaffle went in.

And every time a Slytherin scored, the green side of the pit continued the jeering of their own version of "Weasley is our King." They sang something about Ron always letting the Quaffle in and not being able to save a thing. But that didn't make sense much since the score now read Gryfifndor 110, Slytherin 50.

"Hermione," Lavender yelled from beside me. "Uncover your eyes. What's the point?! You won't be able to see us win!"

"I can see enough to know what's going on," I said between gritted teeth. I only covered my eyes when someone was about to get hurt.

"Then what's the point in hiding behind your hand if you can see anyway?" Parvati asked innocently.

I shrugged. Covering my eyes was a security blanket of sorts for me. I had witnessed enough of Harry falling off his broom that could last me for eternity. But I couldn't really _not _watch. I had to see Gryffindor beat Slytherin, no matter how much it hurt to watch it.

Then suddenly I saw Harry's head jerk to look at his right side. _He saw the Snitch! _I grabbed my red rosette from my pocket and began screaming and waving the red thing in the air as Harry zoomed across the pit to race after the tiny golden sphere.

Malfoy followed in hot pursuit, trying fervently to out-fly Harry. And for a split second, he did. He was racing so fast he was right beside Harry in mere seconds. He leaned further into his broom, flattening himself against the handle of his Nimbus 2001, his head on the same level as his body, and was speeding dangerously forward.

Harry noticed this and with all his energy, he seemed to focus his attention on the Snitch. He leaned forward, as much as his broom would allow him to, gripped the handle tightly, and was ahead by an inch.

But Malfoy would race a few centimetres more, then would bump into the Gryffindor Seeker, trying to fend him off the Snitch. But that never derailed Harry's focus on the Snitch. If anything, it just pushed him forward, and he sped through the air as though he weren't already at breakneck speed in the first place.

Then seemingly close enough, Harry stretched out his hand to reach for the Snitch. A few more inches forward and he would have the golden ball safe in his grasp. I began screaming and jumping up and down, exhilaration running through my veins. We were almost there. We were winning. And it was the whole point of Quidditch. I may not understand the techniques, strategies or moves, but I understood winning. And it was addictive.

My blood pulsed through me so hard that I couldn't hear it. The pit was so loud, the screaming and chanting was deafening. But I couldn't hear it. I was screaming myself, this much I knew. But I never knew what words were coming out of my mouth. All my attention was focused on Harry's hand as it inched closer to the Snitch.

Someone was tugging from behind me, I could feel the bleachers vibrating from underneath my feet, the world was in utter chaos, and nothing else mattered for those few seconds except Harry getting to that Snitch before Malfoy did.

Then Malfoy did a double take and stared at me. I swear he did. I don't know how he found me in the filled up stadium, but he was looking at me and grinning from ear to ear, nearly frozen in midair.

That's when Harry seized the Snitch. And all hell broke loose. Gryffindors yelled, stomped, screamed, cried, pumped their fists in the air and rushed down to the pit, all the while chanting a garbled "Well done, Gryffindor."

But I stood stuck in my place. Malfoy was still in midair, staring at me with that stupid grin plastered on his face. Didn't he know? Didn't he realise that they, because of him, had just lost?

I quickly snapped out of it and started scampering for the pit. I was nearly in the centre when Ron, Harry and Ginny came barrelling at me. We all stared at each other with huge understanding smiles and then a second later I grabbed the three of them in a huge group hug, and we began jumping about and screaming our lungs out. Then we headed for the Common Room for the after party we all assumed there was going to be. We won.

DRACO

My teammates looked at me as if I'd gone mad and wanted desperately to pummel me to death. I blame the Gryffindor Mudblood for having lost the match _and_ for nearly causing me to fall off my broom _and_ for being the cause of my ever-increasing giddiness and excitement and smiling like a brainless dork.

Slytherin lost the first match of the school year and there I was, smiling widely like we just won. If I were someone else on the team, I would have hexed myself.

Thankfully, Zabini came sauntering into the pitch, yanked me by my robes and pulled me out of the death glares of my teammates. He was still the only person in school other than Snape and Dumbledore who knew about my situation (I had to tell him, as he was helping me with my potion). "Stop your smiling, Malfoy," he hissed at me.

"I can't very well do that, can I?" I shot back sardonically. "Not while Mudblood Granger is still in a glorious mood."

He sighed. We were walking into an empty hallway and the exhilaration gradually subsided and my smile transformed to a deep frown. "If you're already well-assured that Granger is your mate, tell me, why are we still bothering with your potion?"

"Denial. Hope. It just can't be her. I need verification, a confirmation of some sort that I'm to be doomed for an eternal union with a Mudblood."

"You make it sound far worse than it is."

"You try living with the fact that you're destined to be with someone – someone you would never choose for yourself, not even in a million years – and then tell me how bad it is. You have no idea. To Potter's best friend of all people!"

He simply rolled his eyes. "That's a touch too melodramatic, Malfoy. Agreed, Granger isn't someone I'd wish for any one of us – although Crabbe and Goyle could actually learn a thing or two from her. But really now, be a little bit more grateful that you ended up with someone who at least _resembles_ a human being."

"Yeah, that's _definitely_ something I should be grateful for. Imagine that: me being destined for someone resembling a human being. Thank you Merlin!" I said sarcastically, spite evident in my voice.

"You could've ended up worse. Madame Pince?"

I shuddered at the thought.

"McGonagall, that odd little Hufflepuff bursting with warts all over her neck, that girl whose nose is a bit off-centre, the Ravenclaw with the five-inch thick glasses and ears dripping with earwax…"

"I get your point," I grumbled. "Come on, we still have a potion to finish."

--

**Author's Notes: **Right then, a round of apologies to everyone who waited patiently for this chapter – extremely sorry for the uber-late update. If it were up to me, this would've been uploaded a whole lot earlier (but then you'd miss Hermione's part of the story). Anyway, a lorry-load of thanks to all who reviewed. Hugs and kisses all around. Hope you enjoyed and please review, yes:) -Sloane

Yes, yes. It was all my fault as to why this chapter took forever to finish. I was buried neck-deep in work and preparations for the company Halloween Party. But loads of thanks to all those who reviewed. To sarahyyy, thanks so much! RandomObssessivePsychoFangirl, love your name. Hahaha! Jade, Lady Sorciere, Re-o-ko, keep on reading and you'll find out what happens next. Writer of Mysteries, Vinwinz, Jennmel, Lilithe, Wings of Fancy, thanks also from the bottom of our hearts. All your comments make us feel all bubbly and giddy inside. Thanks so much for taking your time to leave a review. Love you guys, loads and loads. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, it was much longer than the others. We had to compensate for the days when we couldn't update. See you guys soon! Wait for the next chapter, hopefully it wouldn't take eons this time around. Tata! -Skye


	6. Imprinting

**Chapter 5: Imprinting**

_Four days later_

DRACO

"So after you drink this, will it reduce further heart failures in the future?" Zabini asked me after he gave the ochre-coloured potion one final clockwise stir.

"No," I said and frowned at the memory. Yesterday, Zabini, Crabbe and I were on our way to help save Goyle (who was stuck in Madam Pomfrey's ward after a Herbology incident) and bumped uglies with the glorious Gryffindor Trio (one of them never fails to visit the infirmary at least once a month – it was Weasley's turn for this October) and the Mudblood was clutching his hand ever so sweetly and well, you know what happened next. Although still, at the very back of my mind, I was quite hoping Madam Pomfrey left the premises for a snog-fest with a student.

"And the point of this is what again?"

I rolled my eyes. How many times must I explain this to him? If I wanted someone daft and hollow as an empty coconut, I would've paired up with Crabbe and/or Goyle. "To find out if Granger" (here I said her name with quaking revulsion) "is indeed my supposed one true love."

"And your infirmary performance gives no proof whatsoever?"

I gave him a withering glare.

He held his arms up in mock surrender. "Calm down Malfoy, it was an innocent question. But I think it should be proof enough. If I didn't shove the Mudblood out of the way and far from Weasley, you would still be in convulsing spasms," he said sniggering at the memory. He was enjoying this much too comfortably.

I arched an eyebrow. "You can never be too sure now, can you?"

Without waiting for another pompous reply from him, I ladled out a bit of the potion into a goblet stolen from the kitchens and readily drank it. It didn't taste bad, a bit like sweet potatoes that overdosed on peppermint. It would take effect in several minutes and had a twenty-four hour lasting period which would ready me for breakfast the day after in the Great Hall where everyone in the castle assembles – no one goes through a day without food in their stomach, I reasoned out. No one sane anyway. (I wasn't told exactly how the potion would work, all that was written on the parchment Father sent me was that I'd feel the aura – how utterly vague and ridiculously idiotic)

"Right then, that should be good enough," I muttered and cleared out the ingredients and equipment scattered on the floor.

Zabini smirked. "And if it does turn –"

"Zabini, what are you doing here after hours?" a voice called out.

We both looked up; surprised that someone would attempt to check on Snape's dungeon. It wasn't usually done, the place was hauntingly sinister at that hour and figuring that no one would voluntarily hang-out here, prefects didn't see the need to patrol that particular place.

Light glistened from the lantern they were holding up and I was able discern the intruders. (Boy) Weasley and (Mudblood) Granger. Figures.

"And Malfoy as well, eh?" Weasley said tauntingly. "Shirking from Head Boy duties _and_ breaking the rules. Wonder how many points Dumbledore'd mark off from your House?"

"Nox," I half whispered and flicked my wand again and within a second, the entire dungeon lit up. "Wonder how disappointed you'd be if I told you Dumbledore authorised our using this dungeon? Hm. I doubt you'd cry, but the thought highly entertains me."

Granger's brows furrowed. "Do you have a letter of permission, then?"

"Yeah. In our dormitory. Must I really go back and fetch it? I wouldn't break the rules and you know for a fact, Granger, that I've been excused from Head Boy duty for two weekends. Or haven't you've been told?"

She nodded. "Still doesn't prove you've been allowed to stay out after hours though. I'm afraid I'll have to check on that letter."

Zabini moaned. "Aw, must we really? The dormitory is much too far. Look, can't you just take our word for it for tonight and tomorrow, we'll hand over the letter Dumbledore gave us? Or you could talk to the Headmaster himself. I'm too tired for this."

"Dumbledore's off for the week. He's been called by Turkey's Ministry of Magic – some sort of terrorism had him running to help. And by tomorrow, you and Malfoy could've easily forged a letter. I'd rather you two hand it in now."

"Fine," I said, losing all sense of patience. "Come on, Zabini."

"Hold it – " Weasley called out.

I turned around and faced him ferociously. I was acting as civilised as my temper could possibly take me at that moment but the desire to hit him hard on the face was escalating further by the minute.

"What now?" I spat out.

"One of you should stay here. How can we be sure that you won't forge a letter without us?"

"I suppose it'd be stupid to suggest for the both of you to just trust us?" Zabini said looking up at the ceiling. I could tell he was losing patience as well.

Weasley emitted a barbaric snort.

"That'd be a no then, I presume?"

"That's a hell no."

"So nice of you to translate it to your vernacular, Weasley," I sneered. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll go ahead and get the damn piece of parchment you two are so desperately in love with."

"Fine. I'm going with you."

I seethed. It was getting too trying for me. "I'd really rather you didn't Weasley," I said, trying my hardest to control my temper. "You see, I'm this close to hitting you so hard that your head would detach itself from your neck."

"Mind the temper, Malfoy," Zabini said, grinning like a fool. I glowered at him in response.

"I'll go with him," Granger stepped up.

I looked at her calculatingly. On the one hand, she's a Mudblood, the bane of my existence. On the other hand, Weasley's a blood-traitor, and an annoying freak of nature that could just cause my expulsion from school if I do end up breaking his neck.

"I'd rather not," I said simply.

"Then Zabini and I will fetch it," she said.

"That works out quite well, just be sure to bring Weasley along. I don't think I can stand being in the same room with him without someone to stop me from trying to do serious damage to his bones."

"We can't leave him here alone," Weasley countered but spoke only to Granger.

"Oh don't worry about me, Weasley," I said airily and sat down on a chair with much comfort. "Ghosts don't scare me," I said snickering.

Weasley crossed his arms over his chest and looked at me crossly. "I really don't give a flying fork about that, Ferret. I just don't trust you to be here alone, who knows what the hell you'd do to get out of this."

I rolled my fists together and stuck them in my pockets. Violent images of him being burnt at stake came flying in my head.

"I'll stay here with Granger," I said evenly, trying desperately to control the vicious words that threatened to come out my mouth. "Provided she stays a good ten feet away from me."

She raised her eyebrow at me. I raised one back at her. "I don't think it'd be prudent for a Head Boy to hit a Head Girl and vice versa," was all I said.

She nodded in consent and sat on a chair on the polar opposite side of the room. Weasley shook his head (probably didn't feel safe to leave his precious Granger in the same room with me) whilst Zabini walked out immediately without a backward look and was slowly followed by Weasley.

The silence was deafening. I sighed and stood up to finish clearing out our supplies left on the floor. Granger stood up as well, alerted.

"Relax, I just want to finish packing up," I muttered and sat down on the floor.

She hovered over me (but still keeping the required ten feet distance) to make sure I didn't do anything foul. I rolled my eyes and continued on clearing out the equipment and packing it back carefully into Zabini's rucksack.

"Need help?" she asked.

"No."

I heard a chair slide out. I looked up to see her perched on a chair, watching me intently. I went back to my things and carefully placed the last bit of potion into a bottle (just in case it wears out before I find The One), capped it tightly and positioned it next to the ladle and stolen goblet inside the cauldron that was already set in the bag. Securing the bag, I lifted it onto a desk and sat back down on the chair I was occupying.

Granger stood up again and sat back down on a chair further away from me. I chuckled silently. It felt a bit like a dance to me. Tango, I think it was called.

A minute passed and there was more white noise. I hated it. I hummed softly to myself.

"What the hell is taking so long for them to come back?" I finally said out loud. The silence was making me crazy. "It shouldn't take more than ten minutes for them to go there and back again – Weasley's probably made a complete arse of himself and Zabini had to escape."

"How can you be so sure Ron's the one at fault and not Zabini?" Granger answered back.

"Because, Zabini's too civilised to do anything rash and is less temperamental than your pathetic excuse for a boyfriend."

She mumbled something incoherent.

"I'm afraid I didn't catch that, but whatever you just said, I'm sure I disagree."

"I'm sure you would," she said and faced the wall once more, ending our conversation (if you could call it that).

I sighed. I started counting the squares of gravel on the floor. I didn't think there'd be a moment when I desperately wanted to see Weasley's face, but I was proven wrong. I just wanted them to get back and get out of there.

I looked back at Granger. She was blowing hair off her face. And was glowing.

My heart skipped a beat.

She was glowing gold. Her entire body was outlined by a warm dark gold silhouette. My eyes locked in on her and felt dizzy and happy and somehow, I actually _felt_ her aura and at that moment I just knew that she was the one. My mind as screaming '_lies, all lies!_' but I knew that I was meant for her just as she was meant for me.

"Shit."

"Huh?" she said, looking at me questioningly.

"Dammit," I groaned and buried my face into my hands.

"What's wrong? Are you okay, Malfoy?"

"No," I moaned and started hitting my head on the desk, wishing this was just a dream and I'd wake up soon.

"Malfoy, stop it," she said, holding my head away from the desk before I did any more physical damage to myself.

"It can't be," I moaned over and over to myself. I grabbed her by the wrist and it jolted her to her senses and quickly held onto her wand.

"Oh put that away," I said and looked deep into her eyes, her warm, chocolate eyes that would forever make me feel warm all over. "Tell me, what do you see?"

"What do you mean?"

"Just as it is, what do you see Granger?"

"I see you."

I released her arm in frustration. "What about me? Do you see anything else? Anything weird? Anything that's not supposed to be there?"

"Well apart from you acting psychotic, no."

I moaned and ruffled my hair, for once not caring whether or not my perfectly conditioned hair was smooth and tamed. She didn't see anything, so there might probably be a slim chance of her not being my mate. I rejoiced slightly at the thought, but it was short-lived.

I felt the intensity of her aura. I knew how I felt when I looked into her eyes. I really didn't want to and fought so hard against it – '_I don't even love her!'_ my brain was screaming but I knew it wouldn't be too long now for me to fall for her. It was already starting. Sometimes the mind knows a whole lot more than what the heart wants to deny. I knew I would die if I didn't have her in my life and that I would willingly give up my life just to keep her safe.

"This is bad," I whispered to myself.

"What is?" she asked.

I held her hand, her soft, milky hand. It felt so good to the touch. She looked at me with objection and tried to pull out her hand from my grasp. I held on tighter.

"Tell me," I said, fearing my question might scare her away but still I knew I had to have an answer at that moment. "Are you… are you…" I couldn't finish the sentence. My face was paling; I could feel the blood draining. I imagined her and Weasley together. Holding hands. Kissing. And oh God, I couldn't even think of the worst, it was tearing me to pieces. I flinched at the thought.

_Merde._

"Am I what? Oh God, are you ill, Malfoy? Should I rush you to the infirmary?"

The look of concern in her eyes comforted me. It was terrible and wrong in so many ways but still so pleasant at the same time.

"Never mind."

"Are you sure you're okay? I know you wouldn't want help from me at all but… d'youneedit?" she said the last part rather quickly but I understood it.

"I'll get back to you on that one," I said instead and closed my eyes once more, releasing her hand from mine. It was the coldest, emptiest feeling in the entire world.

HERMIONE

Malfoy looked undeniably in pain. His eyes clouded with… realisation? But that left me confused as I rushed to his side to check what was wrong.

He kept banging his head on the worktable I had no choice but to keep him from hurting himself more. I had no idea what brought on this sudden odd behaviour. But then again, his odd behaviour just kept on getting odder and odder as the term passed by.

_This is bad_, he had whispered. As if I didn't know that much already. And what made things worse was when he held my hand it felt… right. A traitorous part of me wanted to comfort him. Then there was that other part of me that felt outraged by the sudden turn of events. I tried to free myself from his grasp, but he just held on tighter.

Then I was in near panic, something was really wrong with Malfoy, I didn't have to be a medi-witch to realise that much. His pale grey eyes were paler, beads of sweat covered his temples, and his hand was clutching hard at my own. I didn't know what to do.

"Are you sure you're okay? I know you wouldn't want help from me at all but… d'youneedit?" I asked him, unsure of what to say or how to say it.

"I'll get back to you on that one," he said softly, closing his eyes as though he were tired. He let go of my hand and sighed.

"Malfoy," I whispered, truly scared now. He seemed sick and the questions he had just asked me made no sense at all. "This is absurd. I should really bring you to the Hospital Wing."

He smiled, which had surprised me. "You're absurd," he said quietly.

"Excuse me?" I asked, taken aback. Luckily Blaise Zabini and Ron entered the room that instant and ended the awkward conversation I was having with Malfoy. Zabini saw the state Malfoy was in and quickly grabbed all their belongings and hoisted Malfoy against him to lead him back to the Slytherin dungeons.

"Zabini, wait," I said quietly. "What's wrong with him?"

He shook his head. "Don't you mind that, for now. He'll be alright. The letter's with Weasley. I need to bring Draco back to our Common Room." Then he left, Malfoy's arm slung over his shoulders.

I looked over at Ron and shrugged. I was tired, confused, but it was late, all I wanted to do was rest.

The next day during breakfast, I looked over to the Slytherin table, and saw that Malfoy wasn't there. That disappointed me, though did not surprise me. I wanted to se him. I had to make sure he was alright.

Once the usual breakfast chatter was at its normal decibel, and I was sure that no one would hear me, I leaned over towards Ron and Harry and related to them what had happened down in Snape's dungeons the night before.

"You didn't tell me that," Ron said, seemingly offended.

"I was tired, Ron," I said simply. "And I'm telling you now."

Harry was thoughtful for a long second. "He's up to something."

I rolled my eyes. "You always think he's up to something."

"And I'm almost always right."

He was. But somehow, at that moment, I didn't think so. Malfoy seemed genuinely disturbed last night. And it didn't seem malicious. I shook my head for Harry's benefit. "I don't think so," I told him. "There must be something more to this."

Harry merely shrugged. "We'll find out soon, I guess. And, by the way, Hermione, Zabini's staring at you."

I lifted my head in surprise. I searched the Slytherin table, and true enough, Zabini's dark eyes met mine. I furrowed my brows in confusion. I stared back at him. And after awhile he just shook his head, smiled slightly at me and then returned to his breakfast.

"What was that about?" Ron asked, apparently noticing the silent conversation between Zabini and myself.

"I'm not sure," I answered.

**Author's Notes: **Thank you for all our dear readers who took their time to read this fic. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, although this was quite a long one. We're not sure whether you'd like 'em long or short. But anyhoo, I hope you still leave a comment and read on when we do get to update. Love you all! Toodles! – Skye


	7. A New Beginning

**Chapter Six**: A New Beginning

DRACO

I wasn't able to sleep after The Incident. Instead, I stayed awake in my Head Boy room all night after Zabini dropped me off (I was still a little shaky – and of course he bothered me about it until I finally cast a silencing spell on him. Ah, the joys of friendship) and _tried_to sleep. Unfortunately, my mind was too busy thinking of ways to escape my fate, which then led to images of Granger dressed in white robes, walking towards me in a cathedral (the images were nauseating enough, I don't think I can even express it in words), which _then_ led to suicidal thoughts.

Finally, some time around three in the morning, I snuck out again and rushed to the Owlery. Normally, Father wasn't my favourite person to send owls to (in fact, I rarely ever corresponded with him lest I be taken for a daddy's boy) but in this case, seeing as he's the only person I know whom I could actually _relate_ to, I had no choice but. I told him the horrible news and that I'd be waiting for him in the Three Broomsticks again for breakfast.

The following day, I sought out Snape. Seeking permission to leave the school grounds was a lot easier that time as Dumbledore was out and Snape just flicked his hand at me when I told him I was meeting Father at the Three Broomsticks. But even being the Mute Boy that he is, he still is a Hogwarts teacher and so, a thestral-driven carriage awaited me the moment I rushed out of the huge doors of the castle.

Father looked like he was near tears when he ungracefully took his seat across me. I knew the situation was even more severe than I first thought (which is saying a _lot_) when I noticed that he brought Mum along with him. She was looking particularly detached that morning.

"Well?" I demanded, after a moment's silence.

Father just shook his head at me. "I don't know."

"This is entirely your fault, you know," I said sourly to my father. "It's your bloody Veela gene that did this to me."

"How was I to know you'd end up disgracing the family? For generations, not once did a Malfoy end up with a dirty-blooded mate. She's _your_ mate, it's _your_ body, _your_senses – this is all your doing."

I looked at him sulkily and crossed my arms, ignoring the food set before us.

Mum looked at him reprovingly and sighed. "It's no one's fault. This is the fate that Draco has been dealt with; we just have to accept it. More importantly, we have to accept _her_."

I tensed up. I knew I had to accept it, but not just yet. There had to be other alternatives.

"So I was thinking," I said, disregarding what Mum said, "if I ask to be Kissed by a Dementor" – my mum gasped at this – "I'd still be alive, take over the Malfoy line and the upside to it is, I wouldn't be able to feel. And so that frees me from ever having to bring Granger into the family," I finished cheerfully.

My parents looked at me as if I were mad – my mum more so than my father (who seemed to be thinking this over whilst looking at me crossly).

"Look at what you've done to your son, Lucius," Mum said in horror.

"What? I did not suggest he ask to lose his soul – it's not like I'd ever allow him to anyway. He's a teenager, allow him to think stupid thoughts but never act on them."

Mum glared at him again. "You were the one who kept pounding the 'Hate Muggles, Pureblood or No Blood' motto in his head the moment he was born!"

"Right. Because it's not something you'd ever teach him," Father said sarcastically.

"It's an opinion I wouldn't waste any time voicing out, not an opinion I'd force him to have as well!"

Father gave out a dark laugh. "Really now? Let's say, hypothetically speaking, that Draco wasn't a Veela and that he wasn't brought up with the knowledge that purebloods are far better than mixed breeds, how would you react if one day he brought home a half-blood? Or a muggle-born?"

Mum thought this over a bit. "I'd be against it, yes. But if he really wanted to, and if he threatened to leave us for the girl, I'd accept it, just as I am now accepting the fact that Draco is destined to be with, what's her name again? Helen? Hannah?"

"Hermione," I muttered, for my mum's benefit.

"Right. Hermione. I'm far from happy that this has happened, but I'd rather he marry her" (enter strange, garbled sound from me as form of weak protest) "than end up being Kissed by a Dementor."

She looked at the both of us coldly, as if daring us to challenge her. When neither of us spoke up, she continued and spoke to me directly. "You're you, Draco, and she's she. We understand that. But whatever has passed is past, it's time for a new beginning."

"I wonder how this Veela thing works," Zabini asked. "I mean, how are the mates picked? How are they chosen?"

I shrugged. "Probably some masochist from Veela-Land looming over a crystal ball handpicked Granger to be the death of me," I said.

It was after Ancient Runes and Zabini and I were sitting under a tree, waiting for Pucey and Parkinson (who had Arithmancy) and Crabbe and Goyle (who had remedial Transfiguration) to arrive as we all had an hour's break before lunch.

"Maybe… it has something to do with the geographical points where you were born in that could be parallel to where _she_was born."

"You think too much."

"Or maybe it has something to do with your similarities… or lack of," he laughed.

I rolled my eyes and continued on twirling my wand around my fingers. I was starting to get used to him having fun at my expense. More horribly, I was starting to get used to the fact that I would one day end up with Granger.

"So how are you planning to tell her you love her?"

I dropped my wand, startled. I forgot all about that. "I don't love her," I said instead.

"Yeah, but you will, one of these days. Pucey and I have a bet going, he says it'll be two weeks from now, I say in three days."

My eyes widened. I pointed my wand at his nose. "You told Pucey?" I yelled out.

He rolled his eyes and pushed my wand away. "Don't do that, it makes me go cross-eyed. And yes, I've told Pucey and no one else, I swear."

"You are dead, Zabini," I muttered, still clutching on to my wand but not doing anything with it.

"I don't see what the big deal is anyway, you and Granger are bound to happen anytime soon and when that happens, at least people will be assured that you haven't gone mad – you just became, well… Veela."

I shook my head, resigned. I hate it when people as annoying as Zabini (i.e. everyone) turn out to be right.

"So?" he pestered.

"So… what?"

"How will you go about it?" he asked again. "I mean, you can't just go up to her and tell her you love her," he said, suddenly looking dreamy, as though he were imagining the thought of me doing so.

"Certainly not," I scoffed. "I don't love –"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, save it Malfoy. You and I both know what'll happen sooner or later, but in the interest of getting a real answer out of you, let me rephrase it: how will you tell Granger that you're a Veela and that you two belong together? Wow, that'd make Weasley _incredibly_ put off."

"Yeah, won't it?" I said, smiling widely. I could just picture it now: Weasley seeing me and Granger walking down a hall hand-in-hand, his face turning impossibly red, even redder than usual. Oh, I could just picture a little teardrop slide down – hold it, did I just imagine Granger and…. Right, well, let's just pretend I didn't.

"So what'll you tell her?"

I shrugged again. "No clue. I could tell her everything, but knowing our history, she'd either: a) tell me to shove something hideous up my arse, b) doubt everything I say and think I'm planning an attack on her and her friends, or c) believe what I say and go on with her life and delight in the fact that she can physically and emotionally hurt me whenever she wants."

"Ooh, option C sounds rather fun."

"What's option C?" Pucey asked, throwing his books on top of mine and stretching out across me and Zabini.

"Nothing," I mumbled.

"Where's Parkinson?" Zabini asked.

Pucey pulled out a handful of grass before answering. "Disappeared right after Arithmancy. Probably set off to find that sixth year what's-his-name she's been pining after."

"She's pining after someone else other than me?" I asked, feigning hurt. "Should I feel betrayed?"

Zabini and Pucey laughed at this.

"She's moved on, mate," Pucey shook his head in fake sorrow. "So what's this option C you two were talking of?"

"Granger finding out about Malfoy being a Veela and delighting in the fact that she can be the cause of his premature death," Zabini answered for me. I glared at him but he ignored me. I noticed that I've somehow lost respect from the sodding bastard.

"You and I may be friends, Zabini," I spat out. "But mind your place."

"Touchy today, aren't we?" he murmured.

"Why not try it the old-fashioned way?" Pucey suggested, ignoring the small waging war between Zabini and I.

I looked at him questioningly.

"Why not try being _nice_ to her? You know, earn her trust before pouring out your heart to her. Maybe send out a bouquet of flowers and some sweets to go along with it."

My two so-called friends laughed hysterically. I vaguely heard an incoherent "Malfoy?" and "flowers" from Zabini who was trying his best to stay composed.

"Go… go ahead…" Pucey sputtered out between laughter and attempts to breathe. "Woo her."

They both laughed again. Pucey was going red in the face and Zabini was clutching his stomach. Stupid, infantile hyenas.

"I hardly think wooing her is the answer to this," I said the moment their laughter died down. "That'd only bring me back to option B: her thinking that I'm planning an attack on her and her friends."

"It's worth a try," Zabini said, good-natured now. "Or have your father speak with her; he could be more convincing than you. And that puts off you having to tell her yourself how you feel."

I thought about this for a while. It could work. Then again, it might not. "I doubt Granger would willingly step foot inside a room with my father – she seems terrified of him for some unknown reason – without having her wand at the ready along with several other bodyguards. Like Potty, for instance."

"Don't worry about it for now," said Pucey. "We'll think up of ways how you could go about telling her you love her."

"I don't love her."

"Love who?" Crabbe asked, joining the group with Goyle right behind him, taking his place next to me, leaning against the bark of the tree.

"Who don't you love?" Goyle asked.

I sighed. I hated to do it, but what's the point?

"Zabini, would you do the honours?"

HERMIONE

The day droned on with my unwavering awareness of Malfoy. It seemed that everywhere I went I was on the lookout for him. Down the corridors, as I walked from class to class, I would unconsciously be looking for his pale face and blond hair in the sea of insignificant faces. In the classes we shared, I was painfully aware of his presence and the stoic expression on his face. I still had no idea of what happened the night before, and this put me totally off track. Malfoy has been acting strange since the beginning of the term and it wasn't like him to seemingly not be in control of himself, his emotions.

Harry and Ron seemed not to mind Malfoy's strangeness and did not seem to worry about it all the time. And it bothered me that I did. How many times have we seen Harry obsess over Malfoy when things suddenly turned peculiar? And here's Malfoy, acting completely out of this world, and Harry doesn't even seem to mind it so much, Ron even more so.

Somehow, as Harry, Ron and I were walking out of the Greenhouse, as soon as Professor Sprout dismissed the class, I felt like taking a walk before heading for the Great Hall for lunch.

"Hermione," Ron asked as he pulled on my arm. "Where are you going? The castle is this way." He jerked a thumb at the right direction.

"I feel like going for a walk," I answered matter-of-factly and continued to walk towards the clearing.

"We'll join you," Ron said as he and Harry caught up with me.

"You really don't have to," I said but didn't push it any further. I just really needed the air to clear my head.

Something big was happening; I could feel it in the air, in the very veins in me. It scared me, excited me. I had no idea what it was, or even why I thought such a thing was happening, but I knew that it was bigger than me and it was engulfing me whole. And it somehow involved a certain petulant, big-headed Slytherin.

We were nearing the school yard when Harry snapped me out of my reverie when he said "Malfoy and his flock are here; let's go back to the castle."

I looked up, and luckily the Slytherin group still hadn't noticed us. We turned around to head back to the castle when Ron pulled on my arm to stop.

"What?" I whispered angrily. "If you don't stop pulling my arm every five minutes, Ronald, it'll give and stretch down to my knees."

Harry began to laugh. I scowled at him for a second and then turned my glare back to Ron. "And when that happens, I swear I'll hex you to next weekend."

"No, Hermione, listen," he whispered and looked pointedly over his shoulder.

"Ronald," I whispered crossly. "You shouldn't make a habit out of eavesdropping on other people's business –"

"No, wait," he answered hurriedly. "They're talking about you…"

That had me close my mouth shut.

"So now Malfoy has to tell Granger about it," Zabini was saying. "Thing is, knowing the bitter past between them, it's more than likely that she wouldn't believe a word of it."

"Yeah, too much cold blood there for her to believe him now," someone was saying. It sounded like Adrian Pucey. "Malfoy has to come up with something good and just make Granger know about this, before he further hurts himself."

Then they were silent. Checking over our shoulders to make sure they haven't spotted us, we quickly rushed back up to the castle.

"What was _that_?" Ron was pacing around the Common Room. We didn't feel like having lunch anymore so we trekked our way back to the Gryffindor Tower, going against the flow of people who were all headed to the Great Hall.

"No idea" Harry answered, his face screwed up in deep thought. "Do you really have no idea about this, Hermione?"

I rolled my eyes. "If I did, Malfoy wouldn't have to 'come up with something good' and tell me whatever it is he has to tell me, right?" We have been at this for about an hour now and they wouldn't let it rest. "And if you two have any plans of asking me one more time about everything that has happened before this, I'm telling you again, I've told you all I know."

Harry shook his head. "It doesn't make sense."

"Maybe you should just ask him about it," Ron suggested.

"Right," Harry said with a raised brow. "Because Malfoy answers all our questions."

"Boys," I said raising my voice. "I'll find out sooner or later, anyway. He'll have to tell me about it, remember? Whatever it is, I hope its sooner and not later, lest he wants to drive us mad."

"I bet he does." Ron frowned.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "But then again, Pucey did say that Malfoy has to tell Hermione soon, because if he doesn't Malfoy might just end up hurting himself. And _that's_ what's bothering me most." Harry stood up and grabbed his book bag. "What does he have to say to Hermione that's affecting him so much, to the extent of getting hurt? Anyway, we better head out now. Maybe we can make a quick run to the Great Hall to grab a few bites before heading off to class…"

Once again, I rolled my eyes. Now they worry, when just a few hours ago, they didn't even think twice about it.

It was hard for me to admit this to Harry and Ron, but I, too, was worried. It was bad enough worrying about Malfoy's peculiarity, now it was even more worrisome knowing that it was, indeed as I suspected, related to me.

I sighed as I stood up from the huge red velvet chair and followed the two out of the open portrait and into the corridors. It was a long pathway to the Great Hall and I immediately regretted not having lunch – my stomach was literally growling (probably at me for neglecting it of food). Just before we could round up to the corner before the Great Hall, I slammed hard into another body and fell down onto the floor. I looked up to see a sparkle of white-blond hair and pondering grey eyes looking down at me peculiarly.

Malfoy. Uh-oh.

"I-I… S-sorry," I stammered, my heart beating unusually fast.

He offered his hand out, to help me up (how curious), but Harry and Ron beat him to it and held me up by my arms. He quickly lowered his hand and walked away with his friends by his side.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked me softly.

I nod my head, still a bit dazed. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Malfoy," Harry called out.

I looked to see if he would react. He stopped and turned around, looking back at Harry expectantly. Zabini was off to one side, smiling profusely, entertained by the whole ordeal. Crabbe and Goyle were looking at their feet, clearly uncomfortable. Pucey was unaffected and showed no signs of emotions (until a raven-haired Slytherin passed by, to whom he winked at with a grin, but returned to looking stoic as he tuned in on us again).

"Yeah?" he asked, after a second passed and Harry still hadn't spoken.

Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets and gazed at the floor. "Can we talk?"

Malfoy folded his arms across his chest and smirked. "Go ahead."

"In private, I mean."

He arched an eyebrow at that. "I don't think so."

DRACO

My friends were silent and of no use. Pucey, evidently, would much rather spend his time grinning like a madman to third-year Slytherins than to spend his remaining minutes of freedom (a.k.a. lunch break) with us. Zabini, of course, was enjoying this immensely.

"Why not?" the little Potty demanded. What an arse.

"Oh, several reasons, really," I said airily. "One of which has to do with you not being a person I'd willingly chat with. If you have something to say, say it now."

"Alright," he conceded. "We overheard you and your friends –"

"Spying, are we, Potter?"

He glared at me; quite impressively, I hate to say. He went on. "Pucey, I think, said something about you having to tell Granger something."

I looked at him harshly. I was suddenly filled with hatred and relief. And embarrassment (as there were still a few people walking out the Great Hall). Thankfully, none stopped to listen (some just glanced at us curiously). "_That_, Potter, has nothing to do with you."

"That's where you're wrong, I suppose Slytherins don't know much about friendship, but as far as I know, Hermione's my friend and what concerns her, concerns me."

"Aww, how endearing, Potter. But au contraire, that's where you're wrong: I do know a thing or two about friendship, much as you disagree, but I have friends who sometimes, may not be the brightest of the bunch –"

"Oy!" Zabini called out.

"Not you," I muttered through clenched teeth. "But are loyal and _very_ much concerned with my well-being. They just know that what concerns me also concerns them only when I ask for help. See, unlike you, we don't make it a point to pry into other people's lives. We respect each other's privacy – a word _you're_probably unfamiliar with."

Scarface looked as though he was choking (fingers crossed). "Whatever," he muttered instead. "She asked for my help, so can we talk in private?"

"Can't" I answered. What a spoilt brat, can't he just take no for an answer and get on with life? "We have Potions in a few minutes, I have to go. You, of course, ever late and unprepared, can go on and lounge about, but I have my responsibilities to attend to."

I walk away again, Pucey by my side and Crabbe and Goyle right behind us.

"Five-thirty, the Astronomy Tower – Professor Sinistra won't be using it till later this midnight – we'll see you there," I heard Zabini tell Potter.

I stopped in my tracks. I heard Pucey sigh, but like me, he turned around and walked back to where Zabini was standing, looking at Granger a bit sceptically (a feeling I've been having since The Incident).

I grabbed Zabini by the back of his collar and pulled him towards me. It probably would have been more intimidating if not for the fact that he was at least two centimetres taller than me.

"What the hell are you trying to pull, Zabini? Did you not just hear me say something about respecting each other's privacy?" I hissed at his ear.

"Yeah – But I also heard that what concerns you also concerns us if you ask for help. And you did, you asked for help and that's precisely what I'm doing. Come on, mate, you know this is the opening you need," he whispered back. "And you know they can't hurt us," he said loudly now, so that the three Gryffindors could hear. "It's five against three, if any of them tries to hex us, they'll all end up with nose bleeds and upset stomachs. Maybe Weasley can try that 'eat slugs' performance again," he said with a chuckle.

I saw Weasley immediately reach for his wand.

"Go ahead," Zabini said gleefully, a smile etched on his face. "Let's see you do it again, Weasel."

From beside me, I saw Pucey hold out his wand, twirling it around his fingers to display that he wasn't going to attack, but he was ready if they wanted to. Crabbe and Goyle were behind us, cracking their knuckles and ready to pounce.

Granger held on to his hand and pushed it down, then whispered something that was inaudible to us. I gasped as a sharp pain shot through me, my heart began to palpitate painfully and my veins began to throb all over. Why? Why must this always be the effect on me?

I slung my arm over Zabini's shoulder and closed my eyes tightly.

"You alright, mate? I didn't mean for that to happen."

"Yeah," I said after a while. "It's gone now." I straightened up, released Zabini and looked coldly at the three of them. "We're not here to fight, I did not ask for any of this, and may I remind you, you were the ones to first confront us. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a class to get to."

"Wait –" Potter called out before we started off.

"What now?" I asked incredulously. What more could the Accidental Boy Wonder want?

"The Astronomy Tower at five-thirty, is it still on?"

I looked at Zabini questioningly, wondering if I should. He gave me a look. "If you don't, _I_ will," he hissed menacingly. I suppose he's fed up with it all.

"Yeah," I said finally. "Don't be late."

"It'd be best if you all control your tempers," Pucey said before we turned to leave. "So that we don't have to resort to using our wands. Especially you, Weasley. If you really must come along, keep your distance. And your mouth shut."

**Author's Notes**: To our greatest and best reviewers ever: **marauder's babe**(whom we will call dyslexic bookworm from now on. lol), **wudelfin** (ah, a heart attack would've been cool, but a sane Lucius is what we need for the time being - we could take that into consideration though sometime in the story :D), **Masked Ai, Wings of Fancy**(haha, you've guessed quite rightly. yay and woo. ;p), **Transgenic-girl**, **Gabriela-17**(, **carly, The Princess Wolf**, **Dimrilla, Mogg, Vinwinz, JennMel, Kae-Lae, nadia the demented one**

As for the latter part of Hermione's POV, I've taken the liberty to write it as Skye's taking a long time to finish up and said that I could finish it or it'd be another week or month or so before we upload. I've tried my best to write it the way Skye would (don't know if it worked – so I switched to Draco's POV as soon as I could) so complaints and/or flames for that part should be addressed to me.

ANYWAY. Thanks for taking the time to read, and don't forget to review. Cheers. : ) –Sloane

Cheers! Oh, and leave some pretty comments. Yay. – Skye


	8. When Will the Hurting Stop?

**Chapter Seven****: When Will the Hurting Stop?**

DRACO

We arrived in the Astronomy Tower earlier than scheduled. Zabini thought it might put us in the Golden Trio's good graces if we arrived early and not just on time. I agreed to this as I was trying to get away from a second-year Hufflepuff who had begun stalking me ever since I delivered a letter to her from Professor Sprout yesterday afternoon (apparently, she thinks I'm rather fit). I sat on a chair furthest from the door with my feet propped up over another chair next to me, reading a book my father gave me this morning called _Understanding Veelas_. Zabini was by the door playing with his wand, making confetti and different coloured sparks fly out of it, Pucey was staring out a window, eagerly watching the Ravenclaws train for this week's match against us (though I see no point, they obviously don't stand a chance), Crabbe was stuffing his face with pasties he nicked from the kitchens and Goyle was busy vandalising the desk in front of him.

"This book is useless," I said after a while, frowning at it. I was on the second chapter, reading up on how Veelas can feel the emotions of his/her mate, especially if the emotion is incredibly strong. Pfft. As if I didn't know that already, I was in sheer desperadoes when Snape told Granger off in Potions a month ago. "I already _know_ all these crap."

"Yeah? Did you look up how _not_ to feel like being attacked every time Granger touches the ugly Weasel?" Pucey asked, looking up from the window.

"It doesn't say anything about that in this chapter," I said. I went back to the start of the book, into the table of contents and skimmed through it.

_**Understanding Veelas**_

_Chapter One: An Introduction to Veelas_

_Chapter One-and-a-half: Distinguishing Male and Female Veela Properties_

_Chapter Two: Mate Finding _

_**Presupposition of a Healthy Veela-Mate Relationship **_

_Chapter Three: Veelas and their Mates, A Connection_

_Chapter Four: Emotional Connection_

_Chapter Five: Mental Connection_

_Chapter __Six: Veelas in Agony_

_Chapter Seven: Unity_

_Chapter Eight: Veela Wedding Rituals_

_**Presupposition of Doom**_(I saw this part underlined in red ink thrice, a message Father wanted to convey, probably)

_Chapter Nine: __Winning Your Heart's Desire_

_Chapter Ten: If All Else Fails_

_Chapter Ten-and-one-third: Surviving the Death of a Mate_

_Chapter Ten-and-two-thirds: Surviving Rejection_

_**Veelas: Past, Present and Future**_

_Chapter Eleven: Famous Veelas Around the World_

_Chapter Twelve: The Veela Gene and How It's Passed On _

_Chapter Thirteen: __Veela Geneology_

It all looked sketchy to me, but I decided to skim through the sixth chapter anyway. Wouldn't hurt to try.

_Chapter __Six: Veelas in Agony_

_I'm in agony! In agony, I tell you! Where the hell is that son of a bitch?_

_- Fuddidilus Crow, aged 18 (1907)_

_Veelas, upon finding their mates, __often find themselves in great agony with symptoms of a painful quickening pace of the heart, shaking of the entire body and unsteady thinking. This usually attributes itself to self-preservation (serving as a warning signal that the mate may be in close contact with an untrustworthy person) and a need to protect his/her mate. If such is the case, the feeling would last for only a temporary fraction of a minute to alert the Veela and save the mate. It also happens when the Veela is feeling threatened of its security to belong with his/her mate. When a person whom the Veela suspects is in a relationship with his/her mate touches the mate in a way the Veela deems more than acceptable, the nervous system is completely hijacked by the feeling of betrayal and jealousy, that the Veela can't help but feel the emotional attack. For non-Veelas, this feeling is closely resembled to that of a heart failure. And in some cases, the feeling becomes too extreme that the Veela is sent directly to a hospital._

Oh, well that's assuring, I thought to myself sarcastically. "So apparently, the cause of these stupid spasms I'm having is my fear of losing Granger to Weasley," I said out loud.

Zabini arched an eyebrow at me. "Weasley? You're afraid of that red-haired, poverty-stricken git?"

"He does have an advantage over me," I said sourly. "Aren't they dating?"

"Isn't the blood-traitor going out with the annoying Brown girl?" asked Crabbe (he finally ran out of pasties to eat). "I saw them in Hogsmeade last week sharing a sundae. Too poor to even buy another one for the girl," he snickered.

"Oh, really? I didn't know that," I said nonchalantly.

"He's also too poor to buy himself a new pair of socks. Have you seen the mouldy grey ones he was wearing today? Disgusting," Zabini said, scrunching up his face in distaste, as if remembering the socks Weasley wore.

They soon entered into a game of "Weasley's Too Poor For" and I idly went back to my book.

_Several incidents have occurred, though one in particular __is so extreme, that it continually haunts Hans Ulrich of Germany, when_

Blah, blah, blah, I don't really care for instances. I've had plenty enough of them to deal with at present. I skipped through several pages, passing by photos of exquisite-looking Veelas in hospital wards or in chairs, looking weary. Finally, I stopped at the end of the chapter and read the last few lines.

_Many mistakes have occurred over the centuries, and many Veelas have suffered a great deal because of it. It would be wise for a Veela to check out certain friends of his/her mate that can be a cause for Veela Agony and make sure that the relationship they have is purely platonic. Because __of the emotional connection the Veela and mate share, it would be easy to figure out whether the mate is lying or not._

I rolled my eyes at that. What lousy timing, I've already had more than enough attacks for this lifetime, and only now I find out about this. Why didn't Father just say so?? Oh, right, he's a fucking sadist.

"Weasley," Zabini called out with a huge grin on his face, breaking my chain of thoughts. "We were just talking about you, weren't we Crabbe?"

"I'm sure you were," the Weasel-Boy responded, looking at us scornfully. He quickly reached for his wand and pointed it at Zabini.

"Uh-uh, not today Weasley," Pucey said, his arm outstretched, pointing his wand directly to Weasley's chest. Crabbe and Goyle followed suit.

I sighed and threw my book on the desk in front of me and stood up (hands in my pockets. I'm a good boy, see?).

"Put those away," I commanded my friends, speaking clearly. Granger and the Potty were standing next to Weasley by the doorway, but I chose to ignore her. "Put your wand away, Weasley," I said forcefully as Crabbe and Goyle put theirs down (Pucey was still pointing his wand at Weasley because he won't put his wand down).

"Not 'til he puts his wand down first," Weasley retorted.

"Oh honestly!" Granger said, throwing her hands up in exasperation. I could (literally) feel she was starting to get fed up and wanted to leave.

"Protego!" I said loudly after pulling my wand out quickly (so as not to scare the daft street-piece-of-shit) and cast a shield, separating my friends from the other three fuckwits. I stuffed my wand back quickly into my pocket and sat down on a desk nearby.

"You fucking piece of shit," I said to Weasley, once he finally put away his wand. "You attack my friends in a meeting you and Potter called for? What kind of a move is that? Now we were considerate enough to arrive early and grant this little meeting, but if you start behaving like an idiot again, I will not hesitate to pummel your sorry face to the ground. And believe me, I'm not afraid to get suspended for it."

"We're sorry," Potter said, holding a restraining hand on his friend's shoulder. "We came here to talk, and that's all we intend to do."

"I need to hear Weasley say that," I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

Weasley looked at me like he wanted to throw heavy objects at me (unfortunately for him, the heavy artillery (i.e. desks, chairs, etc) were in our part of the room - they were standing by the entryway). "We're just here to talk," he muttered darkly.

"Good," I said. I waved the shield charm away and motioned for the three to step in so we could close the doors. Once they settled in, I called out another shield charm and sat next to Goyle on top a desk.

"What do you want to know?" I asked.

HERMIONE

What do we want to know, he asks. That must have been the stupidest question anyone has ever asked me, and that includes "Are you asleep?" Honestly, why people would ask that question is absolutely beyond me. Like they'd ever get answered: "Yes, I'm asleep." But anyway, that's beside the point.

Here we were, in the Astronomy Tower and I was quite fed up with boys and their unnecessary arrogance. All of them, not just Malfoy.

"Everything," I said. "I want to know why you were talking about me out on the grounds this morning. What is it that would make you hurt if you don't tell me whatever it is you need to tell me? And why have you been acting so peculiar ever since the start of term?

"First you're laughing, then you're almost in tears. Sometimes you're really mean, but then, on those rare moments, like down in the dungeons… you were bordering nice. Malfoy, you're making things complicated."

He frowned, shook his head then turned to look at Zabini as though asking for support. Zabini shook his own head as well and smirked. Malfoy sighed. I didn't know what the hell was going on.

Then he spoke. "Granger… You've been quite the observer, haven't you?" He frowned once again. "But where to start?"

"Why not try the beginning?" Zabini said with a smile. "That's where it all began anyway. When you were _born._"

"This is going to take all night," Ron complained.

Malfoy scowled. "If you don't want to hear the story, Weasel, no one's forcing you. Leave, if you must."

Ron scowled back but stayed put.

"But Zabini's right," Malfoy continued, ignoring Ron's glare. He turned to me and spoke with an air of seriousness that I'd never expect from him. "I'm sure you know what Veelas are. (To which I rolled my eyes yet _again_.) But what I don't expect you to know is that, well, my father, is one."

"One what?" asked Ron stupidly. But I had a very bad feeling about this. Any conversation where Lucius Malfoy was concerned was definitely not going to be fun.

"A Veela, you idiot." Malfoy glowered at him. "Part Veela, his mum was pure Veela, his father wasn't."

"I don't believe it," Harry said, not to be condescending it seemed, not because he doubted Malfoy's words, but he did appear to really be appalled by the news. And so was I. "Lucius Malfoy is a far cry from charming. Veelas are irresistible. Lucius… is just not." Harry shook his head.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Are you a girl, Potter? Veelas are charming to the opposite gender." But he then frowned and seemed to be deep in thought.

"I never found him any more charming than Filch," I added.

Malfoy groaned. "_THAT'S BESIDE THE POINT!_ Whether you do or do not find my father charming has nothing to do with what I have to tell you lot! Just take my word for it, he _is_ half-Veela. And when you all stop interrupting me, I want to get this over and done with as soon as possible."

When we all kept silent Malfoy then continued with his story. "My father is part Veela. Period. Which means, that I am part Veela, as well. Now, I'm not sure how much you lot know about Veelas, but there's this thing called imprinting which takes place once the Veela is of age."

When we still kept quiet Malfoy continued. "It means that every Veela has a mate. That one other person for whom he, or she, has to be with. The Veela desires for this other person, whether he chooses to or not. And, take note, this is not someone he personally chooses for himself, but who destiny picks out. In some cases, _fucking destiny_ plays with us Veelas in ways you wouldn't imagine. And even worse, there's some sort of instinct that tells the Veela that he'd die without his mate. And I mean this literally. Not figuratively. As in the Veela actually does _die_, if the mate chooses to be with someone else." he finished in an angry voice.

"What do you mean destiny?" I asked softly. "Are you talking about soul mates? I don't understand."

"It's more than that, Granger," he said slowly, as though explaining things to a child. But I didn't hold this against him. It was mind boggling.

"Veelas feel an intense connection to its mate. Whenever the mate is feeling extremely happy, so does the Veela. When the mate is angry, the Veela feels it. When the mate is hurt, the Veela feels the same way. And when the Veela is threatened by another man, he feels the fiercest pain you could ever imagine. It's almost as though someone was cursing you with the Cruciatus. The jealousy and threat you'd usually feel emotionally manifests itself physically.

"I never chose this. You have to understand that. But I am telling you the truth. I don't expect you to accept this right away. I know you don't trust me any more than I trust the lot of you. But believe me, if I could choose otherwise, I will."

"And you're telling us this because?" Harry asked, his eyebrows furrowed in deep confusion.

"Because, Potter, when Granger was laughing in the compartment aboard the Hogwarts Express, I almost did so myself. When I hurt her with my own words in the Great Hall, she almost cried. If you noticed, so did I. When she was ecstatic out on the Quidditch Pitch because you were about to catch the Snitch, I felt her glee and it totally put me off course. You see what I'm getting at?" he asked quietly.

I felt my eyes grow large. My palms began to sweat. "No." I could feel my hands shaking as I wiped them on my robes. "No…"

Malfoy sighed. "Unfortunately, yes."

"NO!"

Malfoy shook his head, bit his lower lip, brushed his fingers through his hair, but said nothing at all.

"You… I… What?!" I said incoherently.

"What he means, Granger, is that Malfoy is a Veela, he has a mate, his mate is you, he feels what you feel, he'd die without you," Zabini summarised with a hint of laughter in his eyes.

Ron rolled his eyes. "_Wow_ Zabini, you made a rhyme. Essentially useless, but _really_ witty," he said sarcastically.

"Ron, stop it," I said berating him, my voice quivering slightly. "I… I need to think."

"Hermione," Harry said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "You don't believe him do you?"

I shrugged. I didn't know what to think of things anymore. I did have a feeling this was going to be bad news. Malfoy did start the story with Lucius, for Merlin's sake. But this – this bomb he just dropped on us – was far worse than what I expected. This was hell on earth. My worst nightmares come true. This was beyond me. It was so farfetched that it didn't seem like something Malfoy could just come up with.

And didn't I notice those emotions in him myself? I saw him act strangely on the train, in the Great Hall, on the Pitch… It was all so unlikely, that the only way it could be explained was that it was real.

"How are you sure it's Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Well, the symptoms were all there," Malfoy explained glumly. "But just to be sure, there was a potion we had to make and use to find out. And unfortunately, it is Granger."

"Can it be undone?" I asked slowly. "Is there anyway to fix this?"

Malfoy shook his head. "I did research and asked my father hundreds of questions. Nothing we can do about it."

"But the mate, I mean, me… I have a choice in it, don't I?"

"Well, technically, yes," Malfoy said. "But, if you didn't hear that part of my explanation, Granger, the Veela _DIES_ if the mate does not choose to be with him."

"Well, that's _your_ loss, isn't it?" asked Ron with a silly grin on his face.

"Shut up, Ron!" I said. But then I saw the look on Ron's face so I had to take it back. "I just need to think for awhile, can you not speak first?" I asked quietly, placing a hand on Ron's arm. He nodded without saying a word.

Then out of nowhere I heard someone start wailing and screaming. We all turned to look and found Malfoy on the ground, writhing in apparent agony.

"What?!" I exclaimed as I saw Zabini looking at me irritably. "I didn't do anything!"

"Take your hands off Weasley," Zabini said calmly.

"Why?" I asked incredulously. "What's that got to do with anything?"

Zabini sighed with impatience. "The Veela's pangs of jealousy, as Malfoy said, manifest physically. He's hurting because of you and the Weasel."

"What?!" I asked again, letting my arm fall to my side. As soon as I did so, I saw Malfoy begin to relax, his fingers began to unclench and colour rushed to his face. "I don't get it."

"Malfoy's threatened by Weasley," Pucey said with an air of boredom.

"But that's preposterous!" Ron said out loud. I glared at him. He shook his head with a smile. "You know what I mean, Hermione."

"He's right," I said looking down at Malfoy. "We're not together. We're just friends. You're actually jealous?"

"'Course he is," Zabini said, smirking down at Malfoy.

After a long second Malfoy became calm and began to stand up straight. He wiped his temples with the back of his hand, and then turned to glare at me. "Look, Granger, I didn't choose this, okay! But the least you could do is make things easier for me until we find a way around this."

"ME?! Why should I do anything? You dragged me into this!"

"I told you, I didn't choose this!" Malfoy screamed. "I even begged my father to have me kissed by dementors, just so that I could escape my fate! Do you think I _want_ to be with you?!"

I gasped. I felt tears race to my eyes. Was being soulless better for him than to be destined to me? I couldn't admit this, but I was hurt by what he said. I know I had no right to be hurt, because I knew he didn't like me and I didn't like him either. But I couldn't help but feel as though I was slapped hard across the face.

Malfoy suddenly froze. He clutched at his chest and began heaving.

"Well, if it you hate your fate so much then maybe you _should_ be kissed by a dementor!" I screamed back at him, my tears threatening to spill out at any moment now.

He then looked at me unblinkingly. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "Whatever I said to hurt you that much, I'm sorry."

"What?" I asked, suddenly confused by the change of atmosphere.

Malfoy closed his eyes. He then undid the Shield Charm and he began walking towards the exit. "I need to go. We can continue this some other time."

Then without another word Zabini, Pucey, Crabbe and Goyle followed suit, leaving Harry, Ron and I to look at one another open-mouthed.

DRACO

_Well that went well_, I mused to myself sarcastically as my friends and I walked towards our dormitory. An ugly row, a mortally angry mate, another heart attack and another teary drama all in just a span of an hour. That must hold a record somehow. Somewhere.

"You're not acting like your normal, charming, manipulative self," said Zabini, clucking his tongue in disapproval. "That is definitely not the way to win a lady's heart, if you know what I mean."

I glared at him, seething furiously. He was not making matters any better by doing a Snape.

"Apparently not," Zabini muttered.

"Give him a break," Pucey said in what I supposed would be helping me in my defence (an act I loathed, people defending me just makes me feel like a right helpless moron). "The girls he's ever been out with were more or less sado-masochists, he's never actually learnt to try being pleasant."

"How the bleeding hell do you think I can act all pleasant around that _Mudlblood _when all the while, she's been harbouring disgust and defiance in her at just the thought of our being destined together? You did not feel it the way I did, so shut up!" I retorted and detoured over to Snape's office instead, leaving my friends looking bewildered.

--

I knocked on the door anxiously. It took a while before Snape opened it and let me in.

"To what do I owe this pleasure, Draco?" he asked me slickly.

"I… I'm sorry to just barge right in Professor, but erm… I… I have to speak with my father. As soon as possible. I thought I might be able to Floo him? With… with your permission, of course."

He looked at me calculatingly. "This would be for the same reason as your last two Hogsmeade visits, I take it?"

I nodded.

"Very well. I don't approve having a student use my own fireplace, let alone leave him in my office without me in it, as I presume you want to speak to your father privately, but I will grant you this one request as I understand the position you're in."

"Thank you very much, Professor," I said, feeling wholly grateful towards him at that moment.

"I've been summoned to the headmaster's office, it won't take more than ten minutes. Or so I hope. I'll leave the office to you. Do not let anyone enter and don't you dare leave until I come back. And if you so much as touch anything in or around my desk, and I will know if you have, I'll have you doing detention every Friday and Saturday night for the rest of the school year – do you understand?"

What would I want to do with his desk? I managed not to roll my eyes and nodded my head. "Yes, Professor."

"The Floo powder's on top the fireplace. I'll see you in a bit."

Snape shut the door firmly as he left the room and I was left standing in front of the fireplace, flames cackling wildly in front of me. I grabbed the tiny red container above the mantle and threw a little powder into the grate and knelt down once the fire was burning a deep emerald green and stuck my head into the dancing fire and called out for Malfoy Manor.

"Father!" I bellowed out, once I made out the enormous archway of our (or more specifically, my father's) study. "LUCIUS! Get your fat, ugly arse in here, this instant!" I roared after several seconds of no response.

"Master Draco?" our house-elf Snippy asked, rushing over to me.

"No, it's Father Christmas," I snapped. "Stop asking stupid questions and get me my father or you'll be facing clothes when I get home!"

"O-Of course Master Draco, Snippy is sorry," he said and ran out quickly to fetch my father before I threaten him again.

"Draco," my father greeted me warily several intensely long minutes after Snippy went rushing out. "What's the matter now?"

"The Mudblood – she wants me dead! She… she… argh! This is ridiculous, father! What am I going to do now?" I said, burying my face into my hands.

"First of all, stop acting like a child. Secondly, I don't know what happened, so you'll have to enlighten me."

And so I told him everything that went on in the Astronomy Tower. Towards the end of my narrative, I saw my father shaking his head and looking at me disapprovingly.

"You told her you'd rather be Kissed by a horde of Dementors than to _be _with her? Are you mad?! You may be my son, but you have proven to be immeasurably stupid, you insensitive git! I should've sent you a self-help book on how to act around girls, and not the book on Veelas."

"Oh thanks a lot for your help, _father_," I sneered. "I really, truly appreciate it."

"It's your bleeding fault –"

"She didn't want to have anything to do with me! I felt it. She was actually cringing when I told her she was my mate."

"And still, that wasn't the way you should've handled the situation."

"Yeah, well, that's what happened and I can't take it back now, can I?"

"You could apologise. Say you're sorry and that you regret –"

"No."

"Then you'll die."

"Has there ever been a case where the mate refused to be with the Veela?" I asked, though fearful of what his answer may be.

He shrugged. "I haven't heard of such a case. There have been cases of Veelas having a hard time and pursuing their mates for years, but that's about it. Though I wouldn't be surprised if you luck out and never get your mate, at the rate you're going."

"That makes me feel so much better," I said sarcastically, holding on to my heart as though he just told me something insurmountably wonderful.

Father sighed. "Have you at all tried charming her with your Veela powers?"

I cocked my head to a side. "Aren't I already charming enough? I mean, women throw themselves at me as it is, so I suppose I've been using it."

"Veelas are naturally more beautiful than normal, that's not you using your powers. You can turn you Charms on and off at will. Just imagine romantic thoughts of yourself and your subject and you'll instantly exude a sort of Veela aura that would captivate the person you want."

"That's it? It's relatively easy. Except for the part where I have to imagine romantic thoughts of me and Granger…"

"It still won't be that simple. She can resist your charms – it's a universal law that you can't force someone into loving you. It can just help you out a bit. Of course, you have to tidy up your attitude towards her first before you even try this out."

I rolled my eyes. "If I must."

"You must. So get your act together. Unless you're into the idea of dying early. Practise your charms on other people first – women, if you don't mind – and see if you can get the hang of it."

At that moment, I heard the door open and close behind me.

"Draco, you should head on out to the Great Hall. Dinner," Snape said gruffly and sat down in front of his desk looking pensive.

"Right. Erm, I have to go now, father, Professor Snape's here."

"Alright then. You go on ahead. Tell Severus I want a word with him, will you?"

--

**Authors' Notes:** Well, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. It's getting pretty interesting, don't you think? Well, at least I was able to write something longer this time around. Had a holiday from work today, so I had more time to finish my part of the deal. Sloane would just kill me if this took any longer to write. Anyhoo, we would truly appreciate it if you lot would leave us a word or two. Just tell us what you think, or whatever. Once again, thank you for reading, kindly review, and I guess it's tata for now! Kisses all around. Ciao. –Skye

To everyone still around to read this, wow. Lol. Right then, as we're almost nearing the hundredth review mark, we've decided to hold a competition. : ) We're not quite sure if we'll end up with a hundred for this chapter or the next, but just to let it be known, our hundredth reviewer gets an early Christmas prezzie from us. An advanced look into the next chapter (which of course means loads of mistypes, grammatical errors and a load of junk that will just end up in the cutting room floor. Just thought someone'd appreciate it as we update after _ages)._ So if that be you: either leave your email ad along with your review OR make your email ad visible I your profile page, yes: )

Moving on to our reviewers for the last chapter, a dozen thanks goes to:

**rani singala - **thanks very much. :) oh, and I'll go and read your stories as well. The Vampeela thing seems interesting. **  
ThEnAmEsGiGi - **Sorry for the confusion. This is mainly a Dramione fic, so Ginny doesn't really play a big role after the first few chapters. Will think up of a new summary anyway.  
**La maîtresse de la misère **- thanks very much dear :)  
**Lady Sorciere - ** good to see you on again! wondered where you went of to. lol. :)  
**Cal8907  
****Diddle - **positively loved your comment, as we have tried to show two attitudes. So thanks for noticing. lol. :)  
**lvswtht - **hahaha. as I've been writing Draco's POV, I think that comment was well received (by myself, obviously) lol. But I still think Skye's a more brilliant writer than I am  
**Wings Of Fancy - **always a pleasure reading your comments. Cheers. :)  
**dracomione12  
nadia the demented one  
Transgenic-girl  
The Princess Wolf  
marauder'sbabe  
Dracos-gurl123  
Hotkat144  
Vinwinz  
Dimrilla  
sarahyyy** – for being ever so loyal, we shower a confetti of hearts and stars to you :)

And oh, we _have_ made a mistake regarding Adrian Pucey (shame faced) so it's either he did a Marcus flint and repeated another grade, or we change him to Theodore Nott once we've finished the entire story. Soz. :( -Sloane


	9. Clumsy

**Chapter Eight:**Clumsy ('Cause I've Fallen in Love)

DRACO

Walking away from Snape's office, I headed off quickly towards the Slytherin dormitory. No way was I facing my friends at the moment, I can just imagine the rants and raves of Zabini and the knowing smirks of Pucey. Not entirely enticing. Besides, I've already lost all appetite, thinking of my looming future. Or lack of.

Solitary confinement. All alone. All by lonesome self. And not the least bit sleepy, looking like a wide-eyed madman even if I wanted sleep to come and pay a visit. I needed it badly. I laughed bitterly to myself, thinking how ironic it was that my own stupidity swiftly gave way to a blanket of suicidal depression.

Odd, I felt anxious and slightly jittery. Such feelings didn't quite go well with depression. Probably Granger feeling guilty. Good, let her be. It's all her fault I'm about to die anyway.

"Malfoy, thought we'd find you here," said Zabini, suddenly bursting into the room with Crabe and Goyle at his heels.

I groaned and covered my face with a huge pillow, wishing the floor would open up and swallow up my so-called friends. "What do you want?" I growled.

"To taunt you, to make your life hell, to make you feel utterly and absurdly useless," Pucey said calmly, as he entered the room slowly and leaned against the archway crossing his arms over his chest. "And when you're feeling even more suicidal than usual, stop you from Avada Kedavra-ing youself – though I'm not sure if that's remotely possible – and tell you that all is possible as long as we butt in every so often."

"I've already tried Avada Kedavra-ing myself," I mumbled, taking the gagging pillow off of my face. "It didn't work. I love myself too much to hate myself and actually mean for me to die."

"You what?" Zabini asked loudly, smacking me at the back of my head. "You idiotic piece of aristocratic germ! I thought you wanted Granger to fall for you so you could _avoid_ death?"

"Well, if she doesn't want me, I might as well be dead!" I retorted.

Zabini stood still, giving a moment of silence. "He loves her, Puce. 'Fraid you'd have to pay up," he finally said with a grin.

Pucey looked startled and stood up straight from the archway. "Be that as it may," he started, after having composed himself, "it's past the three days you've wagered…"

"Ha!" said Zabini with a muffled snort. "I really don't think so, what do you say, boys?" he asked Crabbe and Goyle.

The two exchanged looks and turned to the window, not wanting to involve themselves in the brewing argument.

"Look," I said, exasperated with them. "If you four have any plans of helping me out at all, now would be a good time to do so."

Zabini tutted. "I'm the one who's part-Italian here, the one with the flair for dramatics. Stop stealing my thing. Didn't you just come out of a talk with your father? Did he not give you some fatherly advice on saving your neck?"

I shrugged and explained the Veela charm my father told me of. "He told me I should practise it on other women first. Might make a fool of myself in front of Granger."

"There's your answer then," Pucey said with a roll of his eyes. "Tomorrow morning in Charms, you could try it out on the Hufflepuffs."

"Why not Slytherins?" I wanted to know.

"Well they're already all so in love with you –"

Zabini gave out a cough that sounded a bit like 'money' and turned to look at the mantelpiece at the end of the room as though it was the most interesting thing he's ever seen.

Pucey rolled his eyes again and continued. "So it'd be better to see if anyone not the least bit interested in you would take a sudden fancy when you use those 'charms' of yours. And where better else to use it than in Charms?"

Admittedly, the man had a point.

"Tomorrow then," I announced and lay down flat on my bed, my back facing them. Let's just hope I don't mess this up.

Come breakfast time, I was feeling nervous about trying out my Veela charms. What if it doesn't work? What next? And what if it does work and Susan Bones falls for me in the stalkerish way her fellow Hufflepuff has done?

Over the course of breakfast, my friends decided that I use Susan Bones as my experimental guinea pig as she was fast hating me more than ever because I was seated next to her and would always try my hardest to 'accidentally' jab her in the face with my quill. Several times, I managed to hit her square in the eye and she now has growing pus in the corner of her left eye.

Looking up from the spread of food before us, I gazed straight into the penetrating stare of Granger. She was staring at me. Her warm honey eyes were scrutinising me, as if assessing my every move. And locking eyes with her made matters worse. While most people would look away, she just kept on staring at me with a frown. It made me feel almost weak.

'_You love her, don't you_?' my mind asked me maliciously. '_Go on, admit it, she's pretty, clever, and completely out of bounds – quite a turn on, don't you think? Look at those innocent pink lips of hers, think about how sweet it would taste like… wouldn't you just want to find out?'_

'_Stop it!'_ the sensible part of me yelled. _'She's… she's a…'_

'_Gorgeous lady? You really should make the most of your Head Boy duties at night. You'll never know what lies in store for you…'_ malicious me said temptingly.

'_Okay, so you love her. And she isn't exactly a complete troll in the looks department, but remember where she comes from!'_sensible me argued.

'_Oh, the muggle thing? Pfft, that's nothing. She's still a brilliant witch, is she not?'_

I love her.

I love her.

I love her. There was no use denying that anymore when every bit of me was crying out to be with her. To end this infantile rivalry and just go over and sit next to her and curl her hair around my finger and whisper how beautiful she looks today in her ear…

"Malfoy, can you hear me? Hello?" Pucey said, snapping his fingers in front of my eyes.

"Huh?" I said, breaking out of my temporary multiple-personality disorder.

"I was asking if you wanted to get to Charms early so we could still go over the assignment Flitwick gave us last week?"

"Er… yeah, sure, I suppose," I said, a bit flustered with the conversation I just had with myself.

"What's wrong with you today? Not enough caffeine intake?"

"It's nothing," I mumbled, looking down at my plate of half-eaten breakfast of sausages and muffins. "It's just, you know, Granger and this whole Veela-love thing."

"Don't worry about it, we've got it covered. Just do your Veela-voodoo powers on Bones and if it works, then you're well-covered."

"I know, but father also said that even if I charm Granger… she still could, you know… resist it and all."

"Don't worry about anything that hasn't happened yet," Zabini said airily. "When shit happens, that's when you start to worry."

"Easy for you to say," I muttered and attacked what's left of my sausages with a knife.

"One step at a time, mum always tells me," Goyle encouraged.

"Right," I said, putting down my knife and grabbed my books. One step at a time. Easy enough advice to follow. I looked up again (sappy, pathetic me, wanting to have a final glance at Granger before leaving the Great Hall) and found her gazing at me, curiously this time with a tiny hint of a smile on her face.

I ran my hand over my hair (the need to look good and all) and smiled at her as well, though nothing too obvious as most Slytherins still didn't know what was going on.

She furrowed her brows and gave me a quizzical look.

"Shall we go then?" Zabini asked, standing up and slinging his book bag over his shoulder.

"Yeah, come on," agreed Pucey, following suit.

I stood up and started walking out the Great Hall with them. For once, I couldn't wait to get to Charms.

HERMIONE

I had a terrible time trying to fall asleep after that dreaded conference we had in the Astronomy Tower. Thoughts were ramming into each other inside my mind. What Malfoy had said – what he claimed to be true – was beyond mind-boggling. And just because I believed him, doesn't mean I'm not utterly and completely confused by it.

The night seemed so long as I barely had a blink of sleep. I paced through the Gryffindor Common Room, read a book, wrote in my journal, but nothing could distract my mind. It was stubbornly recalling how Malfoy had writhed in pain on the floor when Ron had touched me.

So when nothing I did kept my mind off him, I relented and allowed my attention to visit that moment in time where I saw Malfoy at his weakest. I could still hear his wails and screams. His agony was just too real and it was because of me that he was in that heartbreaking state.

But what was there for me to do? Apparently, the answer was to be with him. To be his.

I rolled around in my bed and groaned. Didn't I have a say in this matter? Was I just expected to accept my fate as it is? I shook my head. "It's so absurd," I whispered as I closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep. And until the very last nanosecond, it was still Malfoy's aggrieved expression that tainted my dreams.

Daylight came too soon the next morning; it felt as though I barely slept. So I grudgingly went through the motions of preparing for yet another long day, and within minutes I found myself being dragged to the Great Hall for breakfast.

And even as I mechanically pushed food into my mouth I was distracted. Harry, Ron and Ginny were talking about something or the other. I had no clue; I was so out of it. It wasn't until I heard Harry mention Malfoy's name did I snap out of it.

"Er… huh?" I looked at Harry.

Harry shook his head. "You really believe him, right?"

"Yes, 'course I do," I said automatically. "You should too. You saw it, you saw him squirming on the ground."

"You know, normally I 'd say that that would prove nothing except how good an actor Malfoy is. But," Harry said slowly, thoughtfully. "I'm afraid there is a possibility he's telling the truth."

"What are you guys talking about?" Ginny asked, leaning forward, her elbows propped on the table.

"Malfoy," Ron answered.

"What did that ferret do now?" asked Ginny with a roll of her eyes.

"It's nothing he did," Ron said, his mouth full. "It's what he claims to be and what Hermione is to him."

"Ron, I'd truly appreciate it if you kept your voice down and tell Ginny only, and not the entire school," I said in frustration.

"Sorry 'bout that Hermione," Ron said as he brushed his mouth with the back of his hand. He then leant forward and lowered his voice, telling Ginny of yesterday's events.

My eyes wandered and later found myself looking at Malfoy who was seated by the Slytherin table. He looked tired and confused and deep in thought. Studying him, I noticed that there were dark rings beginning to mark his face, right under his eyes. _He must not be getting much sleep, then_, I mused to myself. He was slouched down a bit, his posture unassuming, and his eyes were downcast. He wasn't himself. He usually was the centre of attention in his little group of friends, pretentiously entertaining his audience with a smirk plastered on his face.

I didn't know how long I stared, but he must have felt my eyes on him for he looked my way and caught me mid-crime. My breath hitched. He locked his eyes with mine and didn't look away. We stayed that way for more than what was necessary.

I tried to look away. And I probably should have. But try as I may, I couldn't. Not because of anything else, but rather it was impossible to. Literally. I felt frozen in place, and Malfoy's eyes piercing me didn't help my frazzled nerves one bit.

Then a feeling of tingling, warm liquid poured over me and I was breathless. Malfoy's eyes sparkled as they teased me and stared me down. His lips quivered as he smiled at me. I was left winded. A sudden urge to rush over to Malfoy and sit on his lap to caress his soft skin came rushing to me. I stiffened at the thought. _What's wrong with me?_ I shook my head. _I don't like Malfoy. I don't._

I looked away from Malfoy, and joined in Harry and Ron's conversation, still shaking my head. _What was that all about,_ I wondered to myself. Cringing with my cheeks tainted scarlet, I took a deep breath.

"Hermione," Harry said, looking in my directions. "You okay there?"

I took another deep breath and smiled. "I'm fine."

Harry continued conversing with Ron and I took this as an opportunity to sneak a glance in Malfoy's direction. He was talking to Pucey and the others. I waited for that feeling to overwhelm me again. But when it did not, I grinned. It was a fluke after all! _See, I knew I didn't like him. Nothing's the problem._

Breakfast then sped up quite cheerfully for me. And soon it was time for classes.

During those busy hours of potions, charms and transfiguration, I was as busy as a bee. And I loved it. But in one of my subjects with the Slytherins, I again snuck a glance at Malfoy. Again I was blissfully pleased to find out that there was nothing at all that even suggested that I liked him. _Maybe it was a fluke,_ I thought to myself wistfully. _There's absolutely nothing to worry about. I was just thinking of what happened yesterday. That's it!_

Later that day, after the first three periods, Harry, Ron and I were headed towards the Great Hall for lunch and I was feeling better than I was that morning. Although there was still that nagging feeling that I had to think about Malfoy's predicament.

So as I sat down by the Gryffindor table, I decided to go and talk to Malfoy right after lunch. _But what do I say?_ I sighed. There was nothing I particularly wanted to tell him. But I knew we had to talk – without Harry and Ron to 'defend' me. _Guess I'll just have to wing it._

**Notes:** To our reviewers: a huge thanks, especially to those who have stuck it out and have read this chapter. You are the most gorgeous, bestest best readers ever. The Princess Wolf, I not only shower you with hearts and confetti, but rose petals as well. :D -Sloane


	10. Hey Jealousy

**Chapter Nine**Hey Jealousy

HERMIONE

Harry and Ron took awhile to finish up their lunch and I was in a hurry. Malfoy and his friends were already halfway out the Great Hall. I shook my head and sighed in exasperation. "How much longer are you two going to dilly-dally here?"

"What's got your bonnet in a twist, Hermione?" Ron asked giving me a curious look.

"Nothing," I muttered, flushing beet red. I couldn't admit to them that I wanted to have a chat with Malfoy. "You know what, never you mind. I'll go ahead if it's too much for you two to hurry up. I… er… got to pass by the Library before Charms. So… er, if you two don't mind, I'll be going ahead then."

Harry shrugged. "Sure, see you later."

I barely nodded, sprung from the table and rushed after the Slytherins.

Once I reached the Entrance Hall, there was not one Slytherin in sight. I frowned and quickly took off for the Charms classroom, a subject I shared with Malfoy that afternoon. Hopefully, if I got there early enough, I'd be able to catch him without too much people trying to eavesdrop on us. How would they react seeing me talking to Malfoy, when everyone knew we loathed each other?

As I headed towards the classroom, I kept trying to imagine how I could start the conversation with Malfoy. But nothing came to mind. I ran lines in my head, but each and every one of them sounded plain stupid. And I wasn't even sure what I had to say to him that was so urgent.

_Hi, I was hoping we could talk… _And then what?

_Hello, Malfoy, how are you today? _Nope. That would definitely not do. Too blasé, as though it was such a normal thing for me to say to him.

_Malfoy, about that Veela thing…_ No! Too direct, even for me.

Bloody hell, this was proving to be more of a pain than I thought it would be. How hard was it to talk to Malfoy?! What was wrong with me?! Why was I making such a big deal out of it? It was just Malfoy. And talking is just talking. I never had a problem with it before, quite the opposite actually. This was so unlike me and I had no idea why.

Next thing I knew, I was standing by the doorway of the Charms classroom and still I hadn't anything to say. I looked around in exasperation and saw that Malfoy was indeed already inside the room.

I was about to wing it. I decided that whatever came to mind at that moment, I would just say it and then worry about sounding stupid when it was all over.

I took a deep breath, counted to three and then slowly began entering the room. I was barely two steps inside when I caught Malfoy leaning closely towards Susan Bones. My breath hitched for the second time that day. It bothered me that he was leaning way too close to that Hufflepuff with mush for brains.

Immediately, I exited the room and leant against the corridor wall. Suddenly, I knew what I wanted to tell him.

_You foul despicable piece of scum! How dare you lead me to think you liked me when here you are, caught red-handed, flirting your arse off with Susan flip-my-hair-over-my-shoulder-'cause-it-makes-me-look-dumber-than-I-already-am Bones!_

I breathed in deeply and calmed myself down. I tried to reason with myself.

_You're not sure of what you saw. It could be he was just talking to her. And besides, why are you so affected? He never really did say he liked you, now did he?_

_But still. He lied to me if he can go off flirting with other people when he said that Veelas mate for life._

_You'll have to read up on Veelas then, don't you? More to the point, shouldn't this make you feel better? If Malfoy's interested in Susan now, then he's off your hands. No need to worry about it anymore…_

_Aaargh! That's true… but… er… Whose side are you on anyway?!_

I mentally slapped myself. I was going crazy and it was all Malfoy's fault. Mentally slapping myself was not enough. I shook myself, tried to wake myself up and basically admonished myself for all it was worth. When I felt I was ready, I held my head up high and entered the classroom – heading straight for my seat in the centre of the room. I ignored Malfoy on my way there.

As I sat down by my desk, I felt something weird in my stomach. There was something there… Fluttering. It made ignoring Malfoy harder to do. Not to mention the fact that Susan was so incredibly, annoyingly noisy as she flirted back.

So they _were_ flirting. I could hear it in her tone. And the breathiness of her voice was nauseating. I stopped mentally slapping myself moments ago and was ready to do it physically, but to someone else. If only Susan weren't actually a friend of mine, I would have.

I resisted the temptation to watch them. It took all the strength and energy I had to not look behind me. I feared that if I did, I wouldn't have the power to hold myself back. And again, this was so unlike me that I actually felt sick.

"That's a nice tie you're wearing, Draco," she said with a tinge of wispiness to her voice.

I rolled my eyes. Malfoy wore the same tie everyday. It was green and silver, just like all the other Slytherins. What the bloody hell was she saying?

"You're tie is cute too," I heard Mafoy whisper back to her.

_Ugh! Merlin save me. _I wanted to take that stupid yellow and black tie of hers and strangle her with it. And for bonus points, strangle him with it, as well. _They're turning into sodding idiots. _I balled my fists tightly in front of me, keeping them in my line of vision. I was afraid I had no control left over them and I wanted to smash them into something.

Soon people were pouring in. Harry and Ron also entered the room and took the two desks behind me.

"Got here real quick from the Library, eh?" Ron said as he sat down.

I smiled and nodded.

"What book did you need from the Library?" Harry asked as he took his seat beside Ron.

"Er…" I stammered and quickly tried to come up with something. I failed. "Er… I remembered I checked the book out already yesterday. Must have slipped my mind."

That was it. I realised how lacking I was in the winging-it department. I couldn't come up with smart things to say when the need arose.

Speaking of which, Malfoy was still talking to Susan, even as Professor Flitwick entered the classroom. The only satisfaction I got from it all was when the class began and the two had to shut up.

That was the most tiring hour of Charms ever. It took most of me to not look at him. I felt terrible. This was the first time in my entire life that I felt so unlike myself and I hated it. This was not who I was. Was this what I have been reduced to in a matter of mere hours? Some mad girl, being so greatly affected by a mad Slytherin and his mad story and his mad flirting with an equally mad, albeit dumber Hufflepuff?

Halfway through the class, I couldn't help myself, I snuck a quick glance at Malfoy and saw him studying me. I blushed but tried to keep my composure. I raised an eyebrow as though to ask him what the bloody hell was he staring at. I think he got my point.

He smiled.

I stiffened and looked back to the front of the class, and pretended to return to listening to Professor Flitwick's lecture. _What an arse! What the hell did he have to smile at me for? After all that flirting he did with Susan! That boy's got some nerves on him._

Once the hour was up, I quickly stood up and rushed towards the door. I didn't want to have to face Malfoy.

I was nearly halfway to the door when I heard Malfoy call after me. I froze mid-step and turned around to look at him. "Yes?"

"Why so frosty?"

"None of your business, now is it?"

Malfoy just smiled. This only narked me more. Why did he have to act so nonchalant about this?

"If you say so."

"Malfoy, you wanted to tell me something? Please get to the point."

"Our head duties. Rounds tonight?" he asked, reminding of the one thing we had in common.

I nodded and shrugged at the same time. "Meet me by the stairwell to the Entrance Hall, 9 o'clock this evening, sharp. And I mean it, 9 o'clock sharp, not a minute after."

"Will do," Malfoy said with a huge smile. And I frowned. Susan Bones was fast approaching Malfoy from the back of the classroom. As I turned to stalk out of the room, I heard her call out to him.

"Let me walk you to your next class, Draco."

_Ugh!_

DRACO

Having Susan Bones as my guinea pig was not only a smart move, but incredibly hilarious as well. I passed my Veela charms with flying colours and she's now always either drooling over me and wanting to fulfil my every desire or shooting icy daggers my way whenever I stop thinking of me and her in a hot tub together (which, by the way, was extremely hard for me to do).

After Charms, she eagerly walked me to my next class and even waited for me outside the Great Hall before lunch just to wish me a good meal. She then retreated to her table looking flustered and murderous, muttering to herself. If this is how Granger would react to me, I'd say my neck is saved.

"Don't think I want to see a replay of that tomorrow, Malfoy," Pucey said with a groan. The five of us were up in the Slytherin stands of the Quidditch Pitch (Pucey and I just finished practise and Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle were half watching and half playing Exploding Snaps) and having a chat before they retreat to the dormitories and me to my Head Boy duties. "It was too vomit-inducing."

"I thought it was funny," said Crabbe with a chuckle resembling a snort and an elephant scream.

"I thought it was well-executed," Zabini said with a shrug. "But I agree with Puce, no more replays of Drooling Bones, it's just too much to take."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You don't have to worry about your stomachs tomorrow, I won't be romancing Bones anytime soon," I assured them.

"You'll do it on Granger sooner," Goyle mumbled.

"Ugh, that's even grosser," Zabini said and caught me glaring at him furiously. "Oh, I mean, hey look, Nott's over there! I lent him my uh, something. Can I borrow your broom? Thanks," he said and grabbed Pucey's Nimbus 2001 before any of us can say anything else and raced down to the hallway where Nott and Bulstrode were walking.

"Any more comments?" I asked the rest.

"You know how we feel on the matter, Malfoy," Pucey said before standing up. "And you know how you felt about the matter a few weeks ago, so really, let's not be hypocrites. That's all I have to say. I have to go and catch up on my Arithmancy."

Crabbe and Goyle exchanged wary glances before following suit and headed down the dormitories as well.

I sighed and gazed up at the sky. A quarter moon was shining; almost like the sky was smiling at me, goading me.

Was I really ready to face my destiny and disregard all beliefs and principles I've had ever since I was born? Just for the sake of my life? Everyone's got to die someday anyway, so why not tangle with death now?

_Because you love her. All beliefs and principles be damned, you want to be with her._

"Whatever," I muttered at the smiling sky and trudged down the steps.

--

"You're late," Granger told me furiously, her arms crossed over her chest.

"No, you're early. I'm on time," I said patiently, smoothing out the creases of my robe and grabbed hold of the lantern she was holding and started to walk down the hallway. "Well, what are you standing there for? You're the one who wanted to get this started with, might as well start walking, don't you think?"

She was angry at me (I could feel), though I honestly had no idea why. I have yet to mock her or ridicule her friends.

"Oh come on," I said and grabbed her hand, pulling her next to me until she was walking on her own.

"You know, I've been trying to stay on your good side lately," I started as we walked around the ground floor and checked the Great Hall for any stray students. "You don't see me or any of my friends making trouble for you or your friends. I've even made it a point to start our duties on time, though I had no idea you wanted to start fifteen minutes early."

"Is this your idea of a conversation?"

"No, I just wanted to put out a disclaimer: I have not done anything wrong."

"And your point is?"

"I'm getting there, don't be too excited. My point is, no actually, my question is, what did I do now to make you so angry?"

"I'm not. Now let's just get this over with, okay?"

We were walking up the stairs to the first floor and she started to quicken her pace. "Ugh, not so fast Granger," I said, "I hate climbing stairs."

"Too strenuous for you?" she taunted.

"A bit," I admitted. "I just came from Quidditch practise and the Common Room is, I learnt, not a place to hang-out if you need rest. Someone stole a Bludger and it went wild bouncing around the Common Room. Snape was not pleased."

She frowned. "That's not only breaking school rules, it's also very dangerous! Who brought it in?"

"Not me, if that's what that look is insinuating. And no, I don't know who brought it in either. See? Now this is a conversation. But back to my earlier question, why are you angry at me? And don't say you're not. Veela powers, you see. I know how you feel. Though I don't really know why, and that bothers me.

I frowned. "Crabbe and Goyle didn't bully you or that Weasley girl, did they? I gave them specific orders not to bully anyone wearing a Gryffindor necktie; they must be smart enough to know that red and yellow is different from black and yellow. Either way, they must've gotten it wrong and thought your friend was a Hufflepuff."

She stopped walking and stared at me.

"What now? Don't tell me I did something wrong this time!"

"Why are you being so… human all of a sudden?"

"Oh, gee, thanks," I said sarcastically. Try being kind to a Gryffindor and end up being insulted. If this isn't love, then I don't know what it is.

"What? No wand at the ready to hex me?"

I sighed. "I thought we already discussed this back in the Astronomy Tower? My heart, unfortunately for you, though I have no idea why – as most women would consider it to be a no-words-can-describe sort of gift – belongs to you. Do you know three older women propositioned themselves to me just last summer? One of them was muggle too, so I see no reason why you shouldn't like me."

"Think back to all the six years you've aggravated me and my friends and tell me that doesn't count for anything.

I shrugged. "Sure, you've got a point there. But really now, that was just childish nonsense. And that is also why I'm trying to make amends. I realise now that acting stupid and being completely horrible towards you won't do me any good, so you can thank my father for the lessened hexes headed your way."

"Lucius Malfoy has a hand at doing something good?"

"Yes. I really hope you read up on Veelas, it'd make you understand this situation more. But in the meantime, he's a Veela as well and understands that I love you and nothing can ever take it away. Not even him."

She didn't speak. I could feel she was in loss of words. For once. I almost laughed out loud, but I didn't dare. I could feel something warm fill her chest and I took that as a good thing.

"Try to let me love you first. And if I don't make you happy or if I cause you pain, even the slightest prick of a needle, then you can tell me you don't want me. Or that you're better off without me. I'll walk away without a word. Please?"

She bit her lip. She was having a hard time deciding to trust me, but I knew she wanted to. There was just something bothering her, but I couldn't feel what it was. If only Veelas can read their mate's minds as well.

She fidgeted a bit, trying to decide whether or not she should tell me what's been bothering her.

"Not really a fan of suspense, Granger, just thought you ought to know."

She glared at me. "Susan Bones and your disgusting display during Charms – do you honestly think you can fool me with your Veela nonsense?"

"Veela nonsense? You don't believe I've Veela blood?" I asked, confused.

She shrugged. "Sure, you may have. But all those things you said about mating for life? I don't think I believe it, what with you doing the full monty with Susan in public."

"Huh?"

"Look, if you want to make fun of me, you have to think up –"

"Make fun of you? I'd never… well, I may have done that in the past, but everything's different now."

"And what about you and Susan flirting all throughout Charms?"

Oh. That. So that was what she's so riled up about.

"That was merely an experiment," I mumbled, feeling my cheeks flush. Thankfully, it was dark and she wouldn't notice my momentary lapse of normalcy. Very un-Malfoy-like.

She cocked her head to the right and arched an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? Do tell."

"It's… it's…."

"Well?"

"It's too…" How exactly do I tell her that I wanted to practise romancing her by experimenting on Bones? It was too embarrassing. "Look, it was nothing. Honestly, try reading up on Veelas, it will definitely help us work out this quasi-relationship we have."

She pursed her lips and went on walking, pretending the conversation we had never happened.

"Argh, all right. Fine. Have it your way, I just hope your conscience can take it when you see me dead tomorrow," I said and walked next to her in stony silence. I could feel she wanted to say more but the stubborn part of her remained silent.

So we continued on with our duties, checking every nook and cranny of every floor (and found two sixth year Gryffindors sneaking out of the Room of Requirement, hah! Twenty points from Gryffindor and Granger didn't even disapprove) and made sure it was clear of any student.

An hour later, we walked back to a huge portrait of a fat, ugly lady who was fast asleep.

"You may go back to your dormitory now," she informed me and motioned to the portrait. "Our duties are over."

I sighed and leaned against the wall next to the fat lady. "I couldn't tell you because it's too embarrassing. Maybe someday, I'll tell you the reason behind everything. For now, I promise never to flirt with anyone else other than you."

Granger looked at me, not with anger anymore, more of a confused, questioning look.

"Seriously, you have to read up on Veelas. I'll lend you a book tomorrow."

"Good night, Malfoy," she said and turned towards the portrait and tried to wake up the sleeping lady. "Excuse me?"

I grinned. "So you've forgiven me?"

"What makes you say that?"

I grinned even wider. "I feel it."

She rolled her eyes. "Go away, I don't want you to hear the password."

"Not until I hear you say it: I forgive you, darling Draco."

"Then we'll stay here all night."

I shrugged. "Fine with me. I hope it gets even colder later on. You know how people used to keep warm back in the olden days?"

"Oh grow up!"

I smiled brightly at her, flashing my perfect Malfoy pearly whites.

"So we're really staying here all night?" she asked in exasperation.

"It's really your decision; you were the one who suggested we do an all-night rendezvous. And, well, I don't object."

"Goodbye, Malfoy," she said and started pushing me away.

I sighed. "Alright already, no need for manhandling here. Although… if you like it rough, you can just say so," I told her with a wink. "But unfortunately I have to report to McGonagall bright and early tomorrow and I need some rest."

"So go already."

"I'll see you tomorrow, then," I told her with a smile. I bent over closer to her, close enough to whisper in her ear. "I think I found out how cute you are when you get jealous," I said and quickly backed away.

"I'm wasn't –"

"Yeah, you were!" I said and loudly rapped on the sleeping lady's portrait banging my fist on her canvas, rousing her from her sleep.

Walking away, I could hear the lady mutter all sorts of rude things about me. Not that I cared. I could feel what Granger was feeling, and it felt damn good.

--

**Notes**: Hey, hey, hey! Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed on our previous chapter. Good to see that you still came back even after a ridiculously long hiatus. Yay.

To everyone who reviewed, Draco Malfoy rewards each one of you a big fat kiss on the lips:) Unless you happen to be a boy, Hermione Granger is too shy to kiss you but wants you to know she loves you. : ) so anyway, hope you all enjoyed this chapter.

Please review ;p -SkyeSloane


	11. Don't Touch My Mudblood!

**Chapter Ten: **Don't Touch My Mudblood!

DRACO

The glory of last night was still drumming nice and comfortably in the deep recesses of my heart, even if I felt Granger's nagging doubts. As doubtful as she may be, I still knew how she felt deep down inside (now somehow thankful towards my once infuriating Veela genes) and it comforted me somewhat.

"You look weird today," Zabini noted once I sank down into one of the chairs in the Common Room, waiting for Pucey to emerge from the boy's dorm.

I smugly arched an eyebrow at him but said nothing.

"Something pleasant happen last night that you'd care to share, eh, Malfoy?"

"Maybe," I said vaguely with a shrug of my shoulders. "But I definitely don't care to share."

"Aw, too mushy?" asked Zabini, his lips starting form a huge grin.

"None of your bloody business, now is it?" I said and marched out of the Common Room without bothering to wait for Pucey, with Crabbe and Goyle obediently trailing behind.

"So, er, what happened last night?" Crabbe tried to ask me.

"Oh, nothing special," I told them with a smile. We walked to the Great Hall without much conversation, leaving them to think it over. I wanted last night – our moment – to stay special. And to remain to be our moment.

As we walked up the stairs that lead to the Great Hall, I noticed a head of unnervingly distinguishable tousled dark brown hair leaning quite closely towards a bushy head of light brown hair.

"Oy!" I suddenly called out, without even thinking of what I was doing or what I was planning to do.

The pair turned around to look at me, looking surprised as they saw who it was who called out to them.

"What… what are you two doing?" I demanded.

"Walking?" Potter asked, not knowing what I was getting at.

"To the Great Hall, to be more specific," _she _added, as if nothing was the matter and that it was perfectly normal. "You know, most people prefer to have breakfast to start the day."

I warily eyed the two standing ever so closely next to each other – too close for my comfort. But I suppose it was better than…

"What's taking you two such a long time?" a pair of long gangly arms suddenly came out of nowhere and planted itself of either side of Potter and Granger's shoulders.

_My _Granger's shoulders. _My _know-it-all. _My _mudblood.

"Don't touch my mudblood!" I blurted out rather crossly at the red-head standing in front of me who wore a huge grin while hanging on to _her _shoulder like it was an everyday, ordinary sort of thing.

"What?" she asked in a deathly hostile, low voice. "What did you just call me?"

Uh-oh.

I racked my brain, trying to think of a plausible excuse. Nothing came to mind. I didn't think 'I was temporarily abducted by a strange being that forced me to blurt out words I wouldn't normally say' would work on her.

"What's with the commotion?" Zabini asked, before I could form a coherent response. We were still by the top of the stairs as he walked up and slapped me on my back. Along with him came Pucey.

"Hullo, Granger. And friends," Pucey acknowledged them with a smirk. "Don't tell me you'll be having another row with our demented, socially-challenged friend before breakfast?"

"You could blame it all on him," Potter nodded my way.

"Oh, we do," Zabini told him and steered us all to an empty classroom, so as to avoid rumour-mongers. "We've all had the pleasure to get to know Malfoy for a good seven years or so. While usually perfectly well-mannered, he is known to have lapses of uncouthness, especially when he's not too comfortable with the situation."

"You should've seen him at a charity event when his mother decided to donate more than half his clothes. That was quite a scene," Pucey put in, sniggering. "All sorts of words came flying out of his mouth."

I glared at them.

"You get used to it after a while," Goyle added.

I felt my temper rise and my nose flare rather unattractively. None of what they were saying helped calm down Granger's ever-rising anger.

"I'd rather not get used to it, thanks," she said coolly and started for the door.

Zabini gave me a look that said, "Well? What are you waiting for?"

"I'm sorry!" I said, feeling all my blood from every part of my body rush way up to fill my head.

She slowly turned around, Weasley sniggering next to her and whispered something to Potter, who smiled and tried to suppress a laugh that ended up in snorting fits.

"Erm, I'm sorry for what I said. It was stupid. And er… may I have a word with you in private?" I asked, glaring at her friends.

"No. Say what you have to say now or not at all."

I gritted my teeth and counted to ten before I spoke. "I'm sorry. I just had another fit of Veela stupidity. I'm still not comfortable with Weasley hanging on to you."

She studied me for a moment. "Anything else?"

_Not with those morons hanging on to every word I say and planning to laugh at me the moment I'm a few feet away from them!_I thought, but kept silent.

"Yeah, actually…" I said and painted mental images of me and her in the freezing cold with only a hot tub to keep us warm.

She suddenly looked at me as though she wanted to eat me all up. I smirked.

"That, and I hope you forgive me. I'll be keeping my promise. You remember last night, I hope?" I said and with that, I walked out.

HERMIONE

I wasn't sure what had come over me, but whenever I was around Malfoy I just felt weird and not myself. It was an emotional rollercoaster, talking to him. Sometimes, I was pretty certain I hated his guts. But then again, there were those moments when I just wanted to be with him, to be in his world – to _be_ his world.

I sighed with frustration as I climbed up the stairs to head to the Library during free period. I realised it was about time I started reading more on Veelas – before this thing got out of hand.

Perusing through the pages of a handful of books, I started sweating at what I was able to learn. Veelas really did _die_, in the past, when their mates refused to be with them. I wrinkled my nose at that idea. I knew there were times in my life when I hated Malfoy with my entire being, but not enough to actually wish him dead. And the photos in the books were just so graphic that I realised I couldn't _not_ be with Malfoy. And this pained me. Didn't I have a say in my future at all? In my own life? This wasn't just Malfoy's life; it was mine, as well. And I should have some sort of control over it.

I read through each book as fast as I could, scanning and skipping through chapters that were irrelevant. Free period was only ninety minutes long and I had to get to Potions soon.

I was about halfway through the last book when I saw it. The chapter entitled _How To Use Your Veela Charms_. Curious, I read through it carefully, my index finger guiding me as I read each line with the intensity of a mad scientist.

_How dare he?!_ I thought angrily to myself. It was obvious to me, now, what he was doing. This explained all the rollercoaster rides my emotions have been through recently. _He's been using his Veela charms on me!_

I shook my head in fury. My hands clutched tightly around the book which I had just shut with a loud bang – earning a haughty glare from Madame Pince.

So that's why I felt so easily forgiving this morning before breakfast. It wasn't just because it was the first time I ever heard him say sorry – I admit, I was touched and amazed that he had done so. But now, I knew better. I was easily appeased because he was using his Veela charms on me! _That sneaking scumbag of a ferret._

I glared at no one in particular as I stacked up the books and brought them back to the shelves. I was angry, for the second time that day. Wait – I stand corrected. I was furious, livid; I was beside myself with anger!

Marching out the door and down the flights of stairs, I had one sole goal in mind: to hunt down Malfoy in the dungeons and confront him before Potions began.

I passed through the halls hardly seeing anything, everything was a blur. All I knew was, if only I could get to Malfoy fast enough, the faster it would be for me to sock it into him. Finally, I reached the classroom and with just a bit of luck, it was nearly empty. Only Malfoy and Zabini, and a handful of other Slytherins were there. Malfoy was sitting on his usual chair, his legs propped up on the table in front of him, and the chair tilted backwards, resting on its two hind legs. Zabini sat on the table beside Malfoys feet. They were laughing.

I seethed as I stomped into the room. "Can I have a word, Malfoy?" I asked quietly, glaring at him ineffectively.

He looked up at me and smiled. What nerve.

"I said, can I have a word with you?"

Zabini began to snicker. I shifted my frown at him and he immediately smartened up.

"I heard you the first time, Granger," Malfoy said as he put his feet back down and set his chair flat on the floor with a loud thump. He then stood up, seemingly knowing better than to argue with me in front of the others, and led me out the door.

Once we were out of anyone's earshot, he smirked at me and leant against the corridor wall. "What's grating you this time around?"

"You," I answered simply, still trying to affect him with my glare. But alas, it was still a futile attempt.

"So you were serious when you said you wanted a word with me. You literally have just one word?" he asked, amusement in his eyes. But when I simply glared at him and did not respond to his futile attempt to make me smile, he sighed and reached out his hand to stroke my cheek with his fingertips. "What did I do wrong now?"

I moved back a bit in order to distance myself from him; it was hard to be angry when he was touching me. I frowned up at him and stared at him through narrow eyes.

"I just came from the Library –"

"That's not news, Granger," Malfoy said with a soft smile. "You always are in the Library. Why tell me this now?"

"If you had let me continue, I was about to tell you _what_ I was doing in the Library." I was peeved.

"Okay, go on." He crossed his arms before his chest and tilted his head at me, looking at me intently from behind his long blond eyelashes. I almost forgot what I was about to say.

"I was reading up on Veelas," I said, shaking my head, as I copied him and crossed my arms as well. "And guess what I found out?"

He shrugged. "There's a lot to find out. That's why I've encouraged you before to start reading up."

"Well, one thing I learned, one thing in particular, made me realise what a huge piece of filthy dung you are."

Malfoy looked confused, but a tinge of amusement painted his face and I hated it. "And what is it?"

"You," I said as I pressed my index finger at his chest with every word. "Have. Been. Using. Your. Bleeding. Veela. Charms. On. ME!"

I had finished with a flourish and thumped my finger harder than I intended to at him and it caused him to wince and step back away from me.

Then he steadied himself and looked at me curiously. "What's so bad about that?"

"What's so bad about that?!" I asked incredulously. "So you admit to using it?"

Malfoy shrugged. "But I don't see what's so wrong with it for you to get angry."

"Shall I point out the fact that it's clearly manipulation? That you are toying with my emotions, my feelings, to make me like you?!"

"But you can always withstand it," Malfoy whined. "It's not like you're forced to like me when I use it. It's just a tool to help me – us – along."

"There's no justifying yourself with this, Malfoy," I said angrily. "Why can't you just allow fate its natural course? Why can't you just allow me to learn to like you on my own? Am I just some puppet to you?"

Malfoy grinned. He leaned closer to me and began twirling a strand of my curly hair with his fingers. "You're cute when you get angry."

I felt warm and tingly all over with his being so close and I nearly closed my eyes and sighed. But I had to control myself. I wasn't allowing him to affect me. Not now when I had so many things I wanted to yell at him.

Then I was jolted back to reality with a realisation so strong I felt the need to pummel my fist into his midsection. "You!" I gasped. "You're doing it right now! I don't believe this! You're using your Veela charms on me right now. You are such a pig." I shook my head again. "I can't stand you. You just infuriate me so much."

"Now, now, Granger," Malfoy whispered and took my hand in both of his. "Calm down."

I took in a deep breath and a step backwards. "I can't believe you," I said, embarrassed that I recognised the hurt in my tone. "How can I trust you now?"

"Please, Granger," Malfoy said with worry evident on his expression. "Don't be like that."

"It's time for class," I whispered, forcing myself not to care. "We'll talk some other time."

I dodged round him and stepped back into the classroom, which was slowly filling up, and proceeded to sit on my usual spot, between Harry and Ron.

The entire time, I endured the lesson, feeling his eyes on my back. I didn't know why I felt so guilty for getting mad at him when he truly did deserve it. He did, didn't he? So why was I feeling so bad?

DRACO

Women are the most devastatingly irrational and mentally impaired species on earth.

Women make you re-think the meaning of 'death-defying antics'.

Simply put, women are just plain hazardous to your health. At least a certain woman (or maybe 'girl' would be a more preferred term?) is hazardous to _my _health.

Honestly, I see no point in her argument. Why shouldn't I try my Veela gifts? It was certainly given to me for a reason. And seeing as _she _doesn't listen to reason (or she may just really want to see me dead), I see this particular gift the only chance I have to actually win her heart.

I glared at her back as we entered the classroom.

"What was that about?" Zabini asked me the moment Snape entered the dungeon. I swear I could hear shivers from the Hufflepuff section of the class.

I rolled my eyes. "Melodramatic women issues, your mother would love it."

"Obviously," he said with a smirk. "Anything about you and Granger is _always _melodramatic. Give me specifics."

"She was quite livid actually. She finally read up on Veelas and found out I was using my charms on her, wanting me to have 'fate take its natural course', as if she'd ever allow that."

He shrugged. "You'll never know. She did get jealous at your horrid romantic display with Bones, right?"

I sniggered at the thought.

"Oh stop looking too pleased with yourself Malfoy, it gives me hives."

"Malfoy, Zabini, you two may be my two best students, but I'd rather you do as you're told. Start on your potions now or I may just have to give you two detentions," Snape's deep menacing voice was suddenly quite loud, as though he was just a few steps away.

I looked up, only to find him glaring at us, his arms crossed over his chest. I scanned the room quickly and saw that everyone else was working on their potions and their cauldrons were all emitting steam (Weasley's on the other hand was emitting a loud fizzling noise and green smoke).

"Oh. Right. Sorry, sir," Zabini said, giving Snape a roguish half-smile and started with the potion.

I simply followed suit. As Snape walked away, I felt annoyed at myself. It was Granger again, most likely annoyed that we received unfair treatment from Snape. Honestly, if Granger thinks everyone in the world must be treated fairly, she's delusional.

--

After Potions, Zabini and I headed off to a ledge just near the Great Hall. Lunch didn't start for another hour but we had some free time and held a mini-duel between our wands.

He conjured up a miniscule ogre and tried to fight my tiny orange stegosaurus. It was a thrilling game but unfortunately, my stegosaurus couldn't stand the ogre's clobbering and went down pathetically.

"Ah, and my ugly ogre wins!" he said gleefully and held out his hand. "Five galleons, loser."

I rolled my eyes but dropped five gold coins to his hand anyway. "I want a rematch. This time I'll use a more frightening Dementor."

He arched an eyebrow. "Why? Don't tell me Granger and that Finch-Fletchley guy is making you so jealous to the point that you want to make your own tiny Dementor and have it kiss you."

I looked at him, wondering what in the world he was blabbering on about. He nodded towards the courtyard and I saw Granger walk hand-in-hand with Nerd Boy as they went on to sit on a patch of grass under a tree.

"Are they… dating?" asked Zabini, looking at them quizzically.

"I don't think so… I'm not having any jealous, raging fits," I said, still looking at them. "She doesn't have any close relations with him, not like the Weasley kid."

"Maybe it's a relationship in the making?"

"What's a relationship in the making?" Pucey asked as he walked by, stopping at our spot.

I shrugged. "We're not sure yet, but we think Granger and Nerd Boy over there may have something going on. I'm not yet worried though, my Veela system is not yet responding."

Pucey snorted. Then laughed. Then held on to the wall next to Zabini's side of the ledge and continued laughing.

"Er, okay, mad patient alert. Do we need to send you to Pomfrey's ward?"

He sobered up a while and composed himself. "You have absolutely nothing to worry about, your Veela senses will never respond to anything that boy -" he raises his arms and makes quotation marks in the air "- does to Granger. He's a bloody butterfly!"

"Gli piacciono gli uomini?" Zabini mutters under his breath the same time I say, "He's gay?!"

Pucey nods and smirks. "I saw him and Zacharias Smith doing it in the changing rooms by the Quidditch Pitch just last week."

I looked back at Granger. She was now resting her head on his shoulder.

I looked back at Pucey and Zabini. "Does she know?"

Zabini was silent for a while. "I think… I think she may be trying to make you jealous." He conjured a mini-Finch-Fletchley and made him dance around in tights on top our school books.

Pucey conjured a mini-Granger running after him as he does his pirouettes

I laughed hysterically. "Right then. She can go ahead and try to make me jealous, this will be entertaining."

Minutes later, it was time for lunch and people started filling in the Great Hall. Granger and Finch-Fletchley walked in at the same time, still hand-in-hand.

We all tried to suppress our laughter but it was no use. Zabini and Pucey snickered as they walked past while I gave her a smirk and a salute when she looked at me from the corner of her eye. I could feel her confusion. It was just too cute; I wanted to kiss her right then and there.

This is going to be fun.

HERMIONE

It was infuriating. Every time I'd catch Malfoy's eyes he would either wink at me or crinkle his nose while trying to suppress a laugh I knew was bubbling out of him.

I was confused to say the least. He was not supposed to be laughing. What he was supposed to be doing was writhing on the ground in apparent pain with a ghastly expression on his face. But, regrettably, he was not. 

As Justin and I left the Great Hall after lunch, I immediately let go of his hand, making sure no one could see us anymore. I turned to look up at him and smiled sheepishly.

"Thanks for being a dear, Justin," I said quietly. "But it's apparently not working."

He shrugged. "Whatever it is you wanted to accomplish, I'm sure you will, cupcake. See you round then. Tata."

He then turned around and left me standing in the Entrance Hall all by myself. It was not a second later that Ron came bounding out of the Great Hall then stopping by my side.

"What was that display all about?" he asked me, an eyebrow raised.

Blood rushed to my cheeks. "I… er… was trying to make Malfoy jealous," I nearly spat out.

"What?" he asked me, a confused look upon his face. "I think I just heard you say you were trying to make Malfoy jealous, but I know I heard wrong. That's impossible."

"Why is it so impossible, Ron?" I asked exasperatedly.

"So that's really what you were doing?!" he asked incredulously. "Making Malfoy jealous?! With Justin Finch-Fletchley?"

"You should have seen him, Ron!" I exclaimed. I was outraged. After everything Malfoy made me go through, the least he could do was to writhe on the ground for a bit. "He was using his manipulative Veela charms on –"

Something Ron said had caught my attention. "What do you mean '_with Justin Finch-Fletchley_'?" I asked suspiciously, my eyes narrowing. "What's with the tone?"

Ron burst out laughing. He actually was bent over, one hand clutching his stomach and the other was leaning on his knee for support. Let's just say he was laughing his arse off.

"What's so funny?" Harry asked as he walked towards us from the Great Hall's double doors.

Ron was laughing so hard but I could hear him try to get a few words out of his mouth. It sounded something like, "Hermione… Harhar… making Malfoy… Harharhar… jealous… with Justin!" Then he was doubled over in laughter again, both hands clutching his stomach now, as he was nearly kneeling on the ground.

I was exasperated. "You don't make sense, Ronald."

"Was he trying to say that you were trying to make Malfoy jealous by using Justin?" Harry asked, a twinkle in his green eyes. "As in Justin Finch-Fletchley?"

"Yes!" I exclaimed, unembarrassed now. I just wanted to know what the bloody hell was so funny.

And that did it. Harry was sputtering with laughter now as well. He was slapping his thigh with his hand as he laughed so loud that his voice echoed of the high walls. "That's a good one, Hermione," he gasped in between his laughing.

I rolled my eyes. "I thought so too, until you all started laughing. Malfoy was too," I said angrily, actually stomping my foot on the ground in dire irritation. "What the bloody hell is so amusing?"

"Nothing," Ron said, finally catching his breath. "Nothing at all."

I thought I saw him look at Harry pointedly as Harry straightened himself up.

"Harry?" I asked.

"Nothing's amusing, Hermione," Harry said, trying to keep a straight face. "That's a brilliant idea, actually. More power to you then."

"Yeah," Ron agreed as he and Harry began walking away from me. "Keep at it."

I frowned after them but they didn't even notice me. I sighed in annoyance. When it was clear to me that I was standing all alone in the centre of the Entrance Hall and frowning at no one in particular, I marched off towards the Ancient Runes classroom for my next period.

As I stalked through the school towards my next class, I heard a loud screaming voice getting louder and louder as I approached the west wing of the fifth floor corridor. Curious, as was most of the other students, I walked closer to where the sound was coming from. And it happened to be coming from a broom closet.

"What was that spectacle all about then?" a male voice resonated from within the small room. "You've decided to clean up? Is that it? Holding hands with Granger for everyone to see!"

Students milling around suddenly turned to look at me. I shrugged then kept on listening to the brewing argument.

"It wasn't anything like that!" said another voice. "I was simply helping her out!"

"Helping her out my arse!" returned the first male voice. "Like I'd believe that."

"Well believe it, Zacharias," spoke a clear voice, as the door to the broom closet opened slowly. Zacharias Smith began walking out of the closet and the crowd that had begun to form around the door suddenly dispersed. Zacharias stopped dead. Not because we all heard what he had said, but because we all heard what came next.

"Believe it Zach, 'cause I think I bloody fancy you."

I froze. Heat began to form at my cheeks. Utter humiliation filled my chest. Now I knew why Malfoy had laughed. And why he had not felt pain at my so-called act of infidelity. Now I knew why Harry and Ron had laughed their arses off, as well.

Then I heard someone snicker from behind me. I actually felt him looking at me before I heard him. I knew Malfoy was there, watching me.

I slowly turned around, knowing he would be there, smirking at me. And indeed, he was. Oh, the shame. I was going to kill Harry and Ron for not warning me. But before I go looking for those two bastards, I had an immediate someone in my immediate vicinity that I had to kill. Most immediately.

--

**Authors' Notes:**Thanks for reading! Hope we had you laughing your heads off as well. I actually do love this chapter. But then again, I think I say that about most chapters. But anyhu, kindly leave us a message and tell us what you think. Every comment is appreciated, whether short or long. Oh, and watch out for the next chappie, romance is in the air. ) Ciao. – Skye


	12. Sweet Smell of Revenge

**Chapter Eleven: Sweet Smell of Revenge**

HERMIONE

So there I was, staring at Mafoy, wanting to erase that stupid smirk from his face with one huge wallop. I was trembling in my place from pure resentment. My hands were rolled into fists, clenched on either side of me, ready to take a swing or two at him. Maybe one into his stupid looking nose and another into the gut.

Then he started walking towards me. A smile replacing that smirk. And I felt mollified. This sucked, because I instantly knew what he was doing and I hated him even more so for that. Calmness replaced the anger in me. And I knew I didn't have the power at that moment to keep up a good fight.

I did my best to glare daggers at him though, before turning around and stalking towards the Gryffindor Tower, leaving Malfoy behind. I figured I always had later to start with him.

"I know you're in there!" I screeched from the bottom of the stairs that led to the boys' dormitories from the Gryffindor Common Room. "I'm coming up."

I knew I received weird looks for making a scene amidst the stillness of the area. But I didn't care. I marched up the stairs and barged through the doorway into Harry and Ron's room, which they shared with Dean, Seamus and Neville. All five boys were sitting round the room, chatting, and having a laugh. But the three other lads dispersed once they saw me stalking towards Harry and Ron.

"HOW DARE YOU!" I screamed. I was furious, and could you really blame me if I really did feel like killing the two traitors? They should have warned me.

"You two better have legit reasons as to why you felt it necessary for me to make a right fool out of myself!" I shouted, hands on my hips as I glared at them. "Right in front of Malfoy! Justin and Zacharias! Aaaargh!"

Harry gulped. "Hermione, calm down."

"Calm down?!" I asked in bewilderment. "CALM DOWN?! After what you two did to me, you want me to _calm effing down_?!"

"Hermione," Ron pleaded as he reached out both his hands towards me, which I immediately swatted away.

"Don't you 'Hermione' me," I seethed. I shook my head and began pacing the room as Harry and Ron followed me with their eyes as though they were watching a tennis match. "You are supposed to be my friends. What happened?!"

"We are your friends, 'Mione," Ron said as he grabbed my arms and held me still. "Stop pacing round for a moment. You're starting to make me feel sick."

"_YOU_ GUYS MAKE ME SICK!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. "MALFOY MAKES ME SICK! AND WORST OF ALL, THOSE TWO _FRUITCAKES_ MAKE ME SICK!"

And that prompted the laughter. My own laughter. I was shaking as Ron held my arms to my side. I was shaking with laughter, and not fury, this time around. "I'm sorry, that sounded bad. I have nothing against… guys who are into guys, except that Justin just…. Destroyed my plan!"

I was still howling with laughter.

"She's gone mental," Ron said to Harry, a perplexed look on his face which just made me laugh even more.

"He called me…" I sputtered. Very unladylike, but I couldn't help it. Maybe I _was_ going mental. One minute I was bursting with anger, the next minute I was overflowing with laughter.

"Wait, you have to hear this," I said even though they weren't interrupting me, my hyena disease was. "Justin… he called me…" Then I burst into fits of laughter again, tears rolling down my face. "I can't believe he called me a… And I didn't get it… How dumb could I be?! Cupcake!" I sat on Harry's four poster bed and continued my laughing.

"Excuse me?" Harry asked, looking at me as though I were crazy. And maybe I was.

"Cupcake!" I managed to sputter out in between guffaws. "If that's not the gayest word ever, then I don't know what is! And he called me cupcake! I should have figured that out, shouldn't I?"

"Cupcake?" Ron asked.

"Yes, teddy bear?" I said before bursting into peals of laughter again.

"Hermione, I was asking a question," Ron said without smiling. "Who said cupcake?"

"Justin!"

Harry glanced at Ron and then they got it and began laughing along with me. I guess being slow on the uptake is a bit contagious.

--

"So, Hermione," Harry asked as we walked towards the Great Lake. It was a sweltering day and no one could stand it inside the castle. So right after our last period, we decided to spend the rest of the day outdoors. And by the amount of people strolling through the grounds, it seemed as though everyone had the same idea.

"Yes?" I answered Harry as we sat on the top surface of a huge rock beside the lake.

"Why are you making Malfoy jealous?" he asked as he took a white stone with a flat side and threw it at the lake's surface. It bounced three times before sinking to the bottom.

I shrugged. "He… he deserves to feel pain."

"We know that," Ron said with a smirk. "But what is it this time?"

So the whole Veela charms and how Malfoy exploits it story unfolded. I think the boys understood my grief, for the next thing I knew they were plotting revenge.

"Kiss someone else," Ron suggested. "Someone believable."

"Like who?"

"Ron," Harry said as he turned to us with a huge smile on his face.

"What?!" I asked, incredulous at this. "Why Ron? Out of all the guys here, I have to kiss RON?"

"Gee, thanks, Hermione. That's just what I needed to boost my poor hurting ego," Ron said as he glared at me.

"Get over yourself," I said, returning his glare. "You know what I mean."

"And so should you," Harry said as he turned to me looking a tad bit serious about the whole kissing-Ron suggestion. "If you haven't noticed, Ron is Malfoy's biggest threat. He touches you and he's immediately squirming on the ground in agony. How do you think he'd react if you kissed Ron? Think about it, Hermione."

The man had a point. So I turned my head and glanced at Ron. He suddenly seemed shy.

I shook my head and frowned. "Okay, let's see if this will work. But make it quick."

Ron frowned back at me. "What makes you think I'll do otherwise?"

"Shut up Ron," I said impatiently. "Just get it over with."

"But Malfoy's not around," he pointed out.

"He doesn't have to be." I stood up and put my hands on my hips. "He'll feel the pain, no matter where he is. Well, at least according to the book I read."

Ron stood up awkwardly and inched closer to me. He was so hesitant I couldn't help but roll my eyes at him.

Reaching out, I grabbed him by the chin and pressed my lips upon his. We were still for a moment, then I felt him moving his lips slowly against mine. As I responded to he kiss, I felt Ron's arm circle round my waist, and his other hand found its way to my neck. Ron deepened the kiss as a shrieking sound pierced through the air.

I pulled away from Ron as fast as I could, looking around for the source of the noise. Then I saw where the commotion was coming from. It wasn't that hard to spot, seeing as how almost the entire student body were staring in the same direction.

It was just a few metres away from us, to the west side of the lake, where a group of Slytherin students were standing in a circle, around what appeared to me to be Malfoy.

Blaise Zabini's head whipped around and I saw him scanning the grounds, and finally, his eyes landed on me. They narrowed as they saw Ron's arm still wrapped around my waist. He shook his head at me, and I suddenly felt horrible. Something was now tugging at my guts. It felt surprisingly like guilt.

I pulled Ron's arm away from me and stepped away from him. I took a step towards the Slytherins but Zabini shook his head again – which I understood to be a warning not to go near them. Why alert more people to the curious circumstance between us, right?

As Malfoy finally struggled to stand up, with the help of Pucey and Zabini, the stares of the rest of the students began to wander. But mine didn't. I couldn't help but watch him with wide eyes as he wiped the sweat from his temples in a sickeningly slow motion, his arm was shaking.

To make me even feel worse for what I did, he looked my way. He saw me standing with Ron and Harry, and realisation flooded his eyes. He knew what happened. He now knew what caused him so much pain. And it pained me in return to see him so hurt.

He tried to take a step towards the castle and away from me, but his still shaking legs gave way and he crumbled to his knees. I gasped.

"Draco," I whispered.

DRACO

Zabini, Pucey, Nott and I walked by the lake after a particularly gruelling Transfiguration session and were strategically planning the defeat of the Ravenclaws for the upcoming Quidditch match. Zabini, other than his sniggers and rude comments towards the Ravenclaws, didn't help out at all. This may be because of his general lack of enthusiasm for Quidditch or because he isn't part of the team. He hates being left out of things.

"I wonder what's for lunch today? I really hope they won't serve those nauseatingly horrible sauerkrauts they served yesterday. Completely ruined my digestion," he quipped after Nott just suggested an offensive move against the Ravenclaw Seeker.

I rolled my eyes. "Please, you're starting to sound like Crabbe and Goyle."

He shrugged. "Where are those ugly lumps anyway? Shouldn't they be somewhere around five inches from your side?"

"So what do you think about Nott's first plan?" Pucey asked, obviously not interested where Crabbe and Goyle may be lurking.

"I don't know, maybe we should cover the –" I started but a gripping pain tugged at my heart. Sharp blows at first, my heart pounding faster than normal, then complete pain and anguish tore through me, blinding me. I tried to control myself, thinking it would pass but it was by far the strongest pain I've ever felt and before I knew what was happening, I heard a loud wailing sound and my hands automatically reached out and tried to hold on to something but I was too weak. It was as though the wind was knocked out of me and I couldn't see.

And everything turned to black.

"Malfoy! Malfoy!" I heard a small voice coming from somewhere far away. I could feel a pair of hands holding me up and another hand lightly slapping me awake and horrible smells fused through the air.

I blinked and saw Pucey holding his wand out, the horrible smell probably emitting from its end and Zabini was at my face. Nott, I presume, was the one holding me up.

"Malfoy! Are you alright?" Zabini asked once I opened my eyes. I looked at him blankly, still trying to register everything that's happened.

I gazed around and several Slytherins milled curiously surrounding us. I tried to smile and waved my hand at them. "I'm good. I just, I just…" I said, trying to think of what to say. "It was nothing, go back to what you were doing," I said instead and straightened up, still feeling a bit weak and nauseous, just like if I'd eaten yesterday's sauerkraut.

Zabini whipped his head round, rather like he was looking for something and then, spotting it, he stared straight behind me. I followed suit and found Weasley standing in very, _very _close proximity to Granger with their arms encircled around each other.

Realisation flooded through me.

I gritted my teeth, tore my gaze away from them and tried to hurry back to the dormitories. If that's the way she wanted it, then fine, let it be. I was so sick of having to endure agony every bloody time she stands next to him. And it was quite obvious she didn't want me anyway, so why the hell bother? But I was too weak and they were too tightly bonded together. My legs wavered and I fell, missing the ground by mere centimetres as Nott grabbed hold of me again.

"Let's just sit here for a while, alright?" Pucey said and sat down next to me, followed by Zabini.

"You're too pale," Nott said, studying me closely and hurried back towards the castle.

"Was it Granger?" asked Pucey once Nott was out of earshot.

"Yeah," Zabini sighed. I was still feeling shaky and didn't want to participate in any conversation at that moment.

"She's gone too far this time," Pucey replied. "I don't know how you put up with it, Malfoy."

I shook my head. I didn't know either. I stretched on my back and gazed at the sky as Pucey and Zabini talked in hushed tones, not wanting others to overhear.

"Maybe we should have another talk with Granger," Zabini mused, looking thoughtful. "Ask her if she has any intentions of killing Malfoy, because honestly, if that's the case, she must at least try to do it in private, not in front of the entire student body. Besides, it would be extremely traumatising for the first years to see a Head Boy die in their first year of Hogwarts."

"Here," Nott said as soon as he came back and sat next to Zabini and handed me a gold goblet and some Chocolate Frogs.

"Erm, thanks. What's the goblet for?"

"_Aguamenti_," he said, pointing his wand at the goblet. "Water and chocolate helps."

"Right, right. Thanks," I said and drank every last drop water, feeling better already and unwrapped the Chocolate Frog.

"So, what was that all about?" he asked.

I looked at Pucey and Zabini, not entirely sure if I wanted to let Nott know what was going on.

Zabini shrugged. "It's nothing. Malfoy's been acting this way more often, stress with school work, Head Boy duties and being Quidditch captain has taken up most of his time. You should've seen him yesterday in Ancient Runes, practically fainted when we were told we had to write a twenty page essay to be passed the following day. Nearly killed him."

I nodded at Zabini in gratitude.

"Oh. Well you better take it easy today, we've got a game tomorrow," Nott told me.

"Yeah," I said. I stood up and brushed the dirt off my robe and trousers. "I'm off now, if you don't mind," I said, my mind still on overdrive.

I needed to find a way out of this, a way to cut off all relations with her and still survive. I'll be damned if I die just because my supposed meant to be was in love with her best friend and not me. There's got to be a solution out of all of this without having to resort to death or Dementors.

"Malfoy, wait a while would you?" Zabini called after me as I speed walked towards the castle.

"What do you want?" I asked, resigned. I didn't want to talk about it now but knowing Zabini, such a thing was not possible. Nott and Pucey were still by the lake, probably talking about what just happened. Or tomorrow's Quidditch game, still.

"Oh, a lot of things," he said airily as he caught up to me, matching me stride for stride. "Including a portable wireless vision box, I'll have to remember to ask my mother when I go home."

I shot him a stony glare.

"And to know how you're holding up and what you're up to. You have that murderous look on your face again. And while it would be fun if you hunt Weasley down and murder him, I'm quite convinced that you're about to self-destruct instead."

I shook my head and stopped walking. Zabini looked at me, his brows furrowed. "I don't know, you know?" I said.

"Er, no," he replied, looking at me with complete confusion written on his face.

I sighed. "I mean, I can't take it anymore. Obviously I don't like blacking out whenever she comes in contact with Weasley and I really don't want to die just yet. I mean, it's kind of depressing. But there doesn't seem to be a way out of this to cut off feelings from her and still live. And she feels so guilty right now; I can't be the reason why she can't do what she wants to do. It's her life anyway, why should I dictate who she can or cannot see just because my life depended on it?"

He nodded his head slowly. "Right. Well first of all, can I just say this is completely uncharacteristic of you and that you've never shown this kind of… well, it's hard to explain but you know what I mean. Secondly, I don't think Granger is as innocent as she looks."

I looked at him quizzically, wondering what he was getting at.

"I mean, I think the entire thing was premeditated."

"Yeah? What makes you say that?"

"Only because her first attempt at trying to make you jealous failed, quite hilariously in my opinion, and now she's trying something else. Something she's sure will work. A little underhanded if you ask me, and I'm a Slytherin."

I stood there silent for a moment and took it all in. I wanted to say all sorts of hideous things about her, curse her and her family and her friends and all of Gryffindor, but I didn't. I felt her still in shock, in pain and in total guilt. And as hard as it may be to forgive her, I did. Because I knew that she really felt as hurt as I was when she saw me in pain.

And because I couldn't stand it, knowing that she's crying.

HERMIONE

I knew there was going to be a Quidditch match that weekend. Slytherin versus Ravenclaw. I wasn't planning on watching. Too bad Harry and Ron were.

I sat in Hagrid's oversized chair in the Hogwarts' Gamekeeper's hut. Hagrid was pouring me a cup of tea as we listened to the mounting noise from the Quidditch Pitch.

From Hagrid's window you could actually see the match happening. And I wasn't sure what I was doing there, staring out the window from where I was perched, supposedly avoiding the game.

I guess it wasn't the game I was avoiding, per se. I did want to see how it turned out. I did want to see who won. I did want to see how Malfoy played. I just didn't want him seeing me watching him.

And this confused me to no end. What did I care if Slytherin won? I wished they'd lose, really. But something in me was rooting for Malfoy. Could it be that I was actually starting to like him? That quick? Impossible. Right?

I sighed as I stood up and walked towards the window.

"'Mione, if you wanted to watch the match, ye should have jus' said so," Hagrid complained as he placed the huge teacup in my hands. "Yer missing a lot from here, the view isn't that great."

"The view's fine," I said as I smiled up at Hagrid. "I really didn't want to see the game anyway."

"Yer not foolin' me," Hagrids said with a knowing look. "But I'm not going to pry. Watch the game from the window if ye want. I'll be right over here, right Fang?" Hagrid nuzzled the giant dog and downed his cup of tea in a single gulp.

I turned my attention back to the game. It was an exciting game. But the Ravenclaw team was leading the entire time. I guess it became exciting only because I just recently learned how to appreciate the Slytherin team. Well, one Slytherin team member to be exact. And I was keeping my eyes on him.

"Looks pretty good, eh?" Hagrid said, interrupting my thoughts.

"What?" I asked, blushing furiously to the roots of my hair. "Who?"

"Tha' Ravenclaw beater. That dark haired one, with the thick jaw," Hagrid answered. "Brilliant player. Nice reflexes."

"Oh." I returned my attention to the game. I was affected by Malfoy too much and I had to be careful lest I wanted to alert everyone of the circumstances we were in.

The game, meanwhile, had taken a turn for the best when I saw Malfoy speed through the air and concentrate on the small golden ball, so small that from where I was standing, you couldn't see it. But from the look on Malfoy's face you knew he had his eyes locked on the Snitch and with his arm stretched out as far away from his body as possible, he was damn near the thing.

I could feel the excitement in the pit of my stomach and I knew he was gonna get the Snitch. He flew with deliberate movement, swerving through other players with such ease.

I felt a huge smile cover my face as I clutched the humongous teacup in my hands, leaning forward and trying to strain my eyes to get a better view. It didn't help. No matter how much I squinted at the scene, I wouldn't have seen that damned Bludger hurl towards him. Next thing I saw was Malfoy being thrown off his broom with a strong hit to the head and falling from the sky.

I heard a piercing scream that seemed too close for comfort. It was only when I felt Hagrid rush to my side and ask me what was wrong that I realised that I was the one making the loud strangling noise.

One moment I was teeming with a surge of excitement, now everything seemed to just crash and burn around me. The happy air that filled me just mere moments ago evaporated, and it left me deflated.

I couldn't believe it. As Hagrid shook the shock out of me all I could think of was why the bloody hell was I feeling this way. Why was I so affected by the accident? How could I care so much after just a couple of days? It was too soon.

It seemed like an eternity with me just standing there and staring at Hagrid who was still gazing at me expectantly, a concerned look on his face.

I shook my head, still not able to answer Hagrid's question. He seemed blurry to me at this point. My vision was all wrong. I took a look around the hut and saw that everything was blurry. I reached my hand up to rub my eyes and that's when it hit me that tears were overflowing from my eyes, pouring down my cheeks, blurring my sight.

I gasped and returned to the present. I looked outside the window and noticed that it got suddenly quiet. With nerves racking through me, I ran right out of the hut as fast as my feet could carry me across the grounds and up to the castle.

"Hermione!" I heard Hagrid yell after me but I ignored him.

The game had obviously ended. A lot of students were already milling around the Entrance Hall when I got there and I heard snippets of what was being said. From the little I heard, it seemed that Malfoy was in a really bad condition.

I tried to run up to the infirmary faster but so many people were in my way. I had to dodge around students and ghosts who were standing (or floating) around and gossiping about the accident.

It felt like a century when I finally reached the infirmary doors. I skidded to a stop and tried to catch my breath. It took me awhile to get myself right, seeing as how I ran without pause from Hagrid's hut to where I was standing at that moment.

I knocked softly on the door. When no one answered, I opened the door quietly expecting to see Malfoy on one of the hospital beds. But I was left disappointed. All the beds were empty. Only Professor Dumbledore and Madame Promfrey were there.

As if on cue, as the Headmaster always is, he turned to look at me, a twinkle in his bespectacled eyes.

"You just missed him, Ms Granger," he said with a knowing smile.

DRACO

Okay, granted the Ravenclaws are terrifyingly smart and would know almost all the answers to every weird and trivial question you may have. But who would've thought that they would have physical talents as well?

Precisely the question Zabini asked me the moment I opened my eyes to find myself lying down in the school infirmary. Apparently, as I was trying to catch the Snitch, the Ravenclaw Keeper just blocked the Quaffle Pucey was trying to score with and the Ravenclaw Beater, wanting to just stop me from catching the Snitch, hit the Bludger too far north which hit me hard in the head (just almost cracking my skull wide open) and then bouncing hard towards Nott, hitting him hard on the ribs, sending us both falling down to the ground. It would've been a pretty cool move, if only I weren't on the receiving end and if only we won the game.

We didn't, unfortunately.

We lost; 250 to a lousy 75. This Quidditch season is by far the worst Slytherin has ever seen.

"How's your head feeling?" Nott asked me from the bed he was on.

"Feels like it's been banged on gravel a thousand times, cracked open, healed back, only to keep banging it on gravel. How're your ribs doing?"

"Quite horribly, thanks," he answered with a grimace.

"Maybe we should send a few hexes towards the Ravenclaws? Keep them away from Quidditch for the next few weeks, what say you?" Pucey asked (seated at the end of Nott's bed) with a mischievous grin.

"Yeah, I'm game," Nott answered, a nasty grin forming on his face.

"Ugh, can't. I'll be busy studying for my newts," Zabini said from the end of my bed. "My mum thinks I'm the next Merlin and expects no less than Os in my exams."

"I might buy a newt this winter hols," Goyle suddenly said out of nowhere.

"Okay…" I said slowly, humouring my absurdly idiotic but long-time friend. "Good to know. As for hexing the Ravenclaws, you all have my blessing, but I'm still trying to be on my best behaviour, so I can't join in."

"Best behaviour? What for?" Nott wanted to know.

"Oh, this and that," I said, indifferently.

"Draco!" a voice called out from, seemingly, out of nowhere.

"Mum?" I asked, surprised when I saw her standing by the door of the infirmary with father at her side. "What are you two doing here?"

"You're mother insisted we come, as soon as we heard news of you being injured by a Ravenclaw," father's lips curled, disgusted, at the mention of the know-it-alls.

"I am having that violent Beater expelled!" my mother called out in rage, suddenly speaking in spitfire French that neither me nor my father understood.

"Mum? Mum! Can you keep quiet? Your shouting only makes the throbbing in my head even worse."

"Oh, I'm sorry dear," she said, hurrying over at my side and coddled me. "We're bringing you to St Mungo's straightaway. I don't think I trust small school infirmaries with your health."

"But, but," I sputtered, embarrassed my friends had to witness my mum babying me. "I'm quite fine here, Madame Pomfrey did a good job '"

"Nonsense," she tutted, "I just want to make sure a Healer oversees your injuries, now get up, we have a carriage waiting downstairs… do you feel like walking? Maybe we should magick him downstairs, Lucius…"

"I'll do it myself," I muttered, standing up and walking out the door to prove everything's fine but feeling dizzy and slightly nauseous at the act of doing so.

"See you around, Malfoy!" Zabini called out. All three (me, mum and father) looked back at him in acknowledgement. "I mean, Draco. Draco Malfoy, I'll see you around," he amended, nervously looking at my father and mother and back at me.

"Yeah, later," I told all four of them and walked out with my parents in tow.

--

Sunday.

Hogsmeade Day for most my friends and where was I? St-bloody-Mungo's, just because my mother didn't trust Madame Pomfrey to heal my skull (which for the record, was healed impeccably well, according to Healer Lyttleton, who didn't even have to do anything but study my head and let me stay here overnight until it's completely healed again and back in one piece).

"Come in," I called, when I heard a knock at my door, wishing that it wasn't my mother back to curse the Ravenclaws in rapid French and to keep prodding my head as if it were a Potions experiment. It did nothing to help my situation.

"Er, hi."

I smirked. "Fancy seeing you here."

She frowned, made a face and started to retreat. Oops.

"Granger!" I called out in a much friendlier voice. "I was only joking, come back to my all-white abode, where mental outpatients would feel right at home."

"Perfect place for you then."

I grinned. "So what brings you here?"

She shrugged. "I heard from Professor Dumbledore your parents brought you here, so I er… well, anyway, I see you're doing alright on your own. I'll be off now."

"What's that you have in your hands?"

"Oh, er, nothing," she said, blushing furiously and looked down at the parcel she had in her hands.

"Really?" I asked, arching an eyebrow at her. I could feel it wasn't just anything. I really do love these extra powers that come with my Veela blood. "Because I don't think it is."

"Oh, Lavender and Parvati were trying to make cake out of throw pillows and they couldn't do it right so they asked for help. This was one of the leftovers and I thought maybe you'd like it."

Really now? Food is one of the elements that can't just materialise out of thin air, or out of old throw pillows. She must've gone through all the trouble to get it from the kitchens.

"What flavour is it?" I asked, trying to peer into the parcel she was holding out.

"Chocolate," she answered, looking back down at the floor.

I scrunched up my nose. "Ugh, not a fan of chocolate. It tastes like feet."

"Don't eat it then, I wasn't forcing it on you!" she retorted and started to walk out again, but I quickly held on to her hand and grabbed the parcel from her.

"I'm sure I'll find someone to eat it," I said nonchalantly and placed it carefully on the bedside table.

"Right. So, I'll be seeing you then," she started to say awkwardly.

"Could you help me first before you go?" I asked her in a sugary-sweet voice.

She narrowed her eyes at me suspiciously. I swear I'm never going to get her to trust me. "What is it?"

"My pillows aren't fixed right, it's making my head hurt again," I said, making a face. "Could you fix it? Just you know, plump it up a bit."

"Why can't you do it?"

"Because moving around makes my head hurt, so I don't want to twist and turn just to fix my lousy, second-rate pillows because the medi-witches did a bad job at it."

She sighed in frustration but did as she was told. I smiled. Her arms encircled just around my face, her face right smack in front of mine.

"Don't be getting any ideas now," she warned as she plumped up my pillows.

"What sort of ideas?" I asked innocently, giving her a doe-eyed look.

"Never mind," she muttered and tried to step back; only I held on to her wrists. I could feel her pulse beat faster.

"Don't you dare, Malfoy," she said, trying hard to twist her wrists away from my grasp. I pulled her closer in response.

I smirked. "But… I like dares," I said, pulling her slowly towards me. And even if the fire in her eyes were maddeningly defiant, she allowed herself to get pulled closer. Our noses touching, our lips mere centimetres apart.

Sealing the gap, I pressed my mouth on hers. Unexpectedly, she closed her eyes and kissed me back.

I could hear her heartbeat thump even faster than it already was, and I could feel the breathless, blissful feeling soaring in her. And I knew from that moment on, she was mine.

"Oh, oh dear, I'm sorry," I heard a woman from the background say uncomfortably. I quickly released Granger from my hold to look at the intruder.

"Mum!"

--

**Author's Notes**: Due to popular demand, we've included the Hermione-kissing-Ron scene. It wasn't really in the plan, as I wanted to leave Hermione flustered and Draco smug, but I think it turned out well and added some spice to the chapter and I'm glad we did as was suggested. :D So anyway, thanks to everyone who reviewed and if you have any more input/suggestions, we'd love that. Especially regarding the upcoming war. I mean, it's bound to come up in one of the chapters, but we're not quite sure how to go about it just yet. Still thinking about it. So if anyone has any ideas, feel free to let us know. We'll credit you for it, of course. Cheers! -Sloane


	13. The Most Beautiful Thing

**Chapter Twelve****: The Most Beautiful Thing**

DRACO

I couldn't believe it. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought that I'd be kissing Hermione Granger. Alright, maybe I had. _Once_. But it was more of a nightmare rather than a passing daydream. The kiss, it was just indescribable. It was as if we were one, like we fit and complemented each other so much so that it was almost as if there was no one around and just the act of kissing each other was the most natural thing in the world to do. The most beautiful thing.

The feeling was too perfect for words, and I could go on and on like this. Except it turned me to a bumbling fool. And almost as gay as Zacharias Smith. Still, I felt murderous to see my mum pop in, looking at us uncomfortably.

"Mum!" I exclaimed.

"Erm, er… Hermione, is it?" she asked, turning towards Granger who was deeply embarrassed. I didn't have to be a Veela to sense it; her cheeks were burning as bright as Weasley's hair.

"Yes, er, good afternoon Mrs Malfoy," she answered, unable to look at her in the face.

"Hullo, _mother_," I said. "What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to check up on you. Healer Lyttleton said you're skull fracture is doing better now and you may leave as soon as all the paperwork have been signed for."

"I'm fine, mum," I said, and looked pointedly back at the door, indicating that she can leave us alone again.

She rolled her eyes at me. My _mother_ rolled her eyes at me! "I think I'll go have another chat with Healer Lyttleton and I'll be back for you in a few, alright sweetie?"

I groaned inwardly. Being referred to as 'sweetie' by my mother in front of Granger was not something I would have wanted. The seconds ticked by and I was feeling even more nauseous than ever.

I glared at her. "Yes, mother."

She gracefully exited the room, and Granger looked at me with a half-smile on her face. It was as though she wanted to burst out laughing; only the look on my face was enough for her to stifle it a bit.

"You're mother wasn't at all what I expected," she told me, still sitting on my bed, and still in very much near proximity to me.

I felt better already, having noticed that.

"Yeah?" I asked, and reached for her hand. She didn't protest. She didn't even give it a passing glance, as if it was only natural for me to reach out and hold her. Her hand, tiny as it was, fit mine just perfectly. "What did you expect from her? Dragon fire coming out of her mouth?"

She pretended to think it over. "No, just a little steam coming out from her nose and ears," she replied and started playing with my fingers. "Seriously though, I thought she would physically remove me away from this bed and tell me never to come near you again. Surprisingly, she sounded even… _friendly_."

I arched an eyebrow. "Malfoy's are known to do that every now and then," I said indignantly.

"Right," she said sarcastically. "That's why you have so many friends outside of Slytherin House."

I shrugged and grinned at her impishly. There wasn't anything I could say to that, she did have a point after all. I looked at her and smiled even more. She was the most beautiful thing to happen to me, and I don't think I've come to realise this only because of my Veela blood. Her hair was a mess, sure. And she wasn't exactly dressed as elegantly or as refined as some purebloods (maybe it's a muggle thing?), but she was beautiful. The contours of her face made it exquisite. And her personality and intelligence surpassed that.

And I couldn't believe she's mine. I must have done something right in my past life.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she suddenly asked, narrowing her eyes at me.

I laughed. "Must you always be so suspicious of me?" I asked.

She shrugged. "With you, I'll never know."

I smiled. "With me, you'll never have to second guess," I said and pulled her hand to my lips. "With me, you'll know I'll always be true to you. If not for my Slytherin credentials, then for my Veela blood that binds me to you."

She sighed.

I frowned. "What? Too mushy? I know, I thought so too. Maybe when I'm feeling a bit overly cheesy, I'll just shut up and you should just know what that means."

"No, it's alright… I suppose. It's just –"

"Weird?" I asked.

"Exactly," she said, surprised I knew what she wanted to say. "Can you read my mind as well?"

"Not at all, I wish I could. You're bloody hard to understand most of the time. Half the time, it seems like I have to decipher Morse code just to understand what you're trying to say. And it would be an advantage for me during Transfiguration exams if I were able to read your mind," I smirked.

She glared at me. "Well I'm glad you can't read my mind then, you cheater."

We looked at each other, not knowing what to say. I knew she wasn't really that angry at me, given the circumstance that I don't feel any sort of anger.

"Anyway, I better be off now. I promised to meet Ron and Harry in George and Fred's shop in a few minutes."

I frowned.

"Oh honestly," she said, exasperated. "You still can't be jealous over Ron, can you?"

"Given that you can kiss him whenever you want to just to spite me? I'd say yes," I retorted. "I'd rather you just stay here with me."

"I promised I'd meet them there. Besides, no matter how friendly your mother may be, I'm still not completely comfortable being in the same room as her."

I sighed, forgetting that my mother was coming to fetch me in a while.

"Fine. If you must. Can you promise me you won't be kissing anyone just to have me crying out in pain, though?"

"You're such a baby."

"No," I said slowly. "I'm just trying to stay alive. Something that I've been trying to do all year and something that you really don't want to help me with, apparently."

"Alright already. I promise I won't go lip to lip with anyone."

"Except for me, of course," I said with a smile.

She rolled her eyes comically. "Whatever you say, Malfoy."

"Finally, you agree with me!"

"Just enough to make you shut up," she replied calmly and started to stand up from my bed. I quickly grabbed hold of her wrist again.

"Need I remind you that I know every feeling you have? And it's taken a while, but I can somehow distinguish them already. So I know that you quite like me – in fact, you like me so much it makes you feel all… I don't know. Weird and girly, I suppose, for a lack of a better term. So really, you don't have to fake it. Say it with me: I agree with you, Draco, because I really, really like you and wouldn't dare kiss anyone else because they're all uglier and stupider than you. Go on, say it."

"You're such a dork," she said and started to pull away.

"I know," I said, still grinning. "But you like it anyway."

I pulled her back towards me again until we were face to face. She stopped breathing as she looked at me. Slowly, I kissed her again. And this time, it was even better than the first, leaving me breathless. It was usually the other way around, but with Granger, well, I suppose everything just gets better as time passes.

"I'll see you around… Hermione," I said.

For once, she was at loss for words. She looked down at me, still shocked and held her hands to her mouth.

"Er, right, good bye," she said and all but dashed out of the room.

Five minutes have passed and still there were butterflies fluttering around in my stomach. As to whose butterflies those were – mine or Hermione's – I wasn't sure. And I didn't care either. It still felt nice, either way.

"Draco?" my mum called out as she knocked on my door. For once in her life, the woman learnt how to knock.

"Come in!" I yelled back, a smile still on my mouth.

She peeked in, saw that Hermione was nowhere in sight, and breathed a sigh of relief. "How are you doing, dear?" she said as she walked into the room and took a seat next to my bed.

I shrugged. The act of doing so didn't hurt anymore. "Alright, I suppose. I'd be feeling better if you didn't walk in on me and Hermione."

At that, she had the decency to blush and apologise. "How was I to know she'd be visiting you? The last I've heard about your progress with her, your life was still hanging on a slim thread of hope."

"It was, until a few days ago. I just wasn't able to write to father about it."

"Speaking of which, we have serious matters to discuss."

I arched a brow. "What is it this time?"

She looked round the room, and even went so much as to get up and check outside the room to check if the coast was clear. Finally, she sat back down next to me and handed me a note.

_The Dark Lord is about to make his move. And so must we. Don't say a thing, act as blasé as possible. You're father is thinking of a way to protect you and the girl. We'll talk more about it during winter holidays._

I frowned at her. She grabbed the parchment back from me and burnt it with her wand.

"Anyway, I've done the paperwork and you can return to Hogwarts. Study hard, do your best or I'll have your father take away half your spending allowance for the following year, you hear me?"

I rolled my eyes. "When have I not done well?"

She shrugged and started magicking my things into a suitcase and helped me up to my feet. "Go on and change, you still have to study for your exams."

HERMIONE

Guilt gnawed at my conscience. I had nothing to do with the accident, but I somehow felt like I was indirectly connected. The one to blame. Crazy, I know. I wasn't even there at the pitch when it happened.

That Sunday was Hogsmeade day. But I got special permission from Professor Dumbledore to visit Malfoy at St. Mungo's. And all the way there, my nerves wouldn't take it easy.

Approaching the hospital room had my heart pounding harder against my chest, somehow I felt like I shouldn't be there. I wasn't thinking straight, my hands clutched at the box of cake, as I stood frozen outside the door. It was only then I realised that Draco's parents could be there. And Lucius Malfoy was one person I definitely did not want to see.

But it was too late, I supposed. I was there with a gift at hand. It would have been utterly foolish to just turn around and leave. Yet there was no helping the pounding of my heart and the sweating of my palms.

Somehow I got myself to knock softly on the door. And upon hearing Malfoy's voice, I slowly opened the door. I peeped inside to make sure the parental units were not in the room and upon seeing that it was only Malfoy there, I slowly pushed my way in.

He smiled at me from the bed. He smirked, actually, if truth be told. I almost bolted out the door then. But he called me back. And I complied.

What I saw, when I got a good look at him through the fumes of my slight irritation, was that he looked tired and yet glad to see me. He wore a quilted robe of silver-blue satin, and the rest of his lower body was covered up by a cream-coloured eiderdown. The trouble was, seeing Malfoy on a bed was doing disturbing things to my senses. Bloody hell!

That should have been a sign, I suppose, to get the devil away from him. Ever since… well, blind me, ever since the beginning of the new term, Malfoy had been toying with my emotions and I didn't suppose I could handle any more.

But I was in too deep now to get away. I think it was at this point that I realised that he had a hold on me.

And eventually those words embodied themselves literally and physically. I don't remember what brought it on. Or how it started. All I remember was that he was teasing me, the usual thing I would have expected from him, then I was plumping up his pillow… then he was kissing me.

To save my soul, I couldn't find the will to object as his arms drew me closer and closer still. Then I felt his lips, warm, enticing, pressing ever so gently on my own, and my eyes closed, accepting the unavoidable. For the moment, nothing mattered but the taste of him. And I knew at that instant that I was his.

I sighed in his arms, his lips still pursuing mine. He had slowly brought his tongue into play, teaching me the lovely sensations it could invoke, using it to open my mouth, to taste me within. He eventually enticed my tongue to explore as well, and once it timidly passed between his lips, he wouldn't let it go, gently sucking it deeper and deeper into his mouth. I was groaning into his mouth, my face flushed scarlet and my hands clutching his shoulders, when the door burst open.

I didn't know whether to be sorry or happy for the interruption. Malfoy was drowning me with such feelings I was not accustomed to and it baffled me. But at the same time, I have to be completely honest with myself, I welcomed the bafflement.

But for right then, I had snapped right out of it, for no other than Narcissa Malfoy broke us from the spell that had bound us together.

Embarrassment is an understatement for what I felt at that moment. I was mortified and horrified to be caught in such a compromising situation.

I felt Malfoy stiffen beside me at the sight of his mother.

But Narcissa Malfoy was different and not as I expected her to be. She was almost… friendly? I'm not sure if that's the correct word to describe her. But she seemingly was so.

However, it wasn't long before she exited the room and left Malfoy and myself to our own once again. This made me slightly nervous.

Yet, talking to Malfoy this time around was much more pleasant, albeit sarcastic. And I was a tad bit sorry to have had to leave right away. But I really had to. Harry and Ron were waiting for me at the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes in Hogsmeade and I didn't want to be late. Otherwise, those two oafs might think I was being detained against my will and might come rushing to St. Mungo's to attack Malfoy. And you know that wouldn't be a pretty sight.

Using the grate at the hospital to get to Hogsmeade was a faster and more viable choice of transport, since I really did not like Apparating. And within minutes I found myself walking along the street towards the Weasley twins' joke shop, the freezing cold air bringing coldness to my warm cheeks. I don't think I stopped blushing for even a minute since Malfoy's kiss. And I kept smiling like a total fool.

As I entered the joke shop I saw Fred standing near the front of the store. He was watching a little boy who was perusing through the shelf filled with magical joke stuff. Fred wore a suspicious look on his freckled face, tendering the younger boy nerve wrecked.

"Stop pestering the boy, Fred," I complained good-naturedly. "He's not going to steal anything."

"What's with the smile, Hermione?" asked Fred with a teasing grin, ignoring the boy, as I walked up to him.

"Nothing," I lied, seeing Malfoy's face clearly in my mind.

"Hmmm… Hair mussed up, cheeks rosy red, lips bitten," an approaching Ron said with a smirk that would have given Malfoy's own a run for his money. "Ickle Mione got kissed?"

I rolled my eyes. Leave it to Ron to be so immature about it all. "It's cold and windy outside."

"Kissed?" George asked as he joined us at the front of the shop. "And who, may I ask, has been kissing our little Hermione?"

"Little?!" I asked incredulously. Then I shot Ron a defiant stare. "And what the devil are you blathering about? What do you know?"

Harry burst out laughing at that. "No need for you to be so defensive, he was just teasing. You know that, don't you, Hermione? But now that you are defensive, now we know it's true."

"It's not," I said defiantly as I crossed my arms across my chest.

"Stop lying," Ron said and guffawed when I frowned at him.

"So who did you kiss then?" asked Fred, a belligerent look on his face. "Anyone we know?"

Harry and Ron exchanged amused looks. And simultaneously said, "Malfoy."

"What?!" George exclaimed.

Fred took a step forward. "Malfoy? Draco Malfoy? That little loser?"

"Can you guys keep your voices down?" I grumbled.

"Yes, if you explain why the hell you'd be kissing that silver-haired ferret," George said. "We'd stop being so loud about it."

Fred tapped his foot and crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, we're waiting."

George copied his brother's stance and tapped his foot matching Fred's beat. "Well, Hermione, what do you have to say for yourself?"

I tried to bite down a smile that was slowly creeping to my lips. The twins always had a knack of creating a blithe atmosphere, blithe enough for them to find out all your deepest secrets.

But then I sighed and turned to Harry and Ron. "Do I really need to go through the whole explanation again?"

Looking at the twins, "Let's just say that things are different now between Malfoy and myself and there's nothing that I say or do that could change that."

"I wouldn't say _nothing_," Harry said with a smile. "You do have a choice, but that means Malfoy dies."

Fred and George glares jumped from me to Harry then to Ron, they were still dumbfounded.

"What?" asked Fred.

"Can't we just leave it at that?" I asked them exasperatedly. "It's a really tedious process, trying to explain the long sordid tale. Let's just say that he did kiss me and I didn't find myself slapping him afterwards. And Narcissa Malfoy was even friendly to me."

Harry and Ron looked at me curiously, but Fred and George were just left stumped by the overload of information.

"You let him kiss you?" Ron asked curiously.

"Ron, you're forgetting how unique my circumstances are," I said matter-of-factly. Then I turned to Harry and said, "Shall we go then? How about getting something warm to drink at Madame Puddifoots?"

Harry nodded curtly and he followed me out the door and into the cold. Ron, I suspect, was being detained by his brothers for more questioning.

"How unique are their circumstances exactly?" I heard George ask Ron before the door to the shop swung close.

"Why can't they believe that I like Malfoy now," I asked impatiently, as Harry and I walked down the street towards the quaint little tea shop.

"Well, possibly because he's been the greatest git ever to set foot in England and made our lives a living hell ever since First Year," Harry answered bluntly. "So you do admittedly like him now?"

I shrugged. I wasn't even sure yet what I was feeling. Whenever I was around Malfoy, it just seemed to be the most natural thing in the world, having him close, letting him kiss me, and allowing him to hold my hand. But when I'm alone, or not around him, it suddenly seems strange and then reason just goes against all of it.

"I think so, but I'm not quite sure," I answered Harry. "Maybe it's just inevitable that I will like him… maybe even lo – hell, it's so hard to say it."

"Are you saying that you don't find it hard to imagine yourself… loving him?" Harry said bravely, trying to boldly confront the matter despite the blush that crept up to his cheeks.

I sighed and gave Harry an apologetic smile. "Amazingly, not in the least. He's really kind to me now. He even makes me laugh. And you can't deny that he is intelligent and good looking."

Harry grimaced, at which I only reacted with a laugh.

"He is rather pleasing to the eyes," I insisted as we entered the warmth of Madame Puddifoots. "And best of all, when we're not trying to rile each other up, I realised that we do get along well."

Harry sighed and squeezed my shoulder. Looking at me seriously, he said, "'Mione, I know that the past few months I've treated this not as seriously as I would have in the past. But that's because I know you, and you're the most rational person I know. And I trust your instincts, even right now with this issue."

"Thanks Harry," I smiled at him. "You're easier to talk to about this. Ron would have been quite a headache."

Harry scoffed at that remark. "Very well. I know you've got the sense to distinguish the good from the bad. How about a cuppa then?"

"I'd love one," I answered as I slid into one of the chairs that surrounded a small tea table in the corner of the shop. Harry nodded and walked over to the counter to get us some tea.

"So how is Malfoy doing?" Harry asked not a moment later as he returned with a pot of steaming Earl Grey tea. He set the pot down on the centre of the table, along with two dainty tea cups, fresh lemon slices arranged on a plate, a bowl of white, granular sugar, and a small pitcher of milk.

"He's healing quite well. Bet he'd be back in school by tomorrow."

"Your future's looks quite bright then," he said as he took his seat across from me.

**Notes: **Apologies to whoever found Draco's part too sickeningly sweet. I was in the middle of a romantic novel when I was writing his part to a fault that he may have been extremely out of character. Please don't hate me for it. On the other hand, this story is completely AU anyway, so I don't suppose it matters much? At any rate, I still hope you've liked the entirety of this chapter. Cheers, yo! – Sloane

Sorry that this took _ages_ to be uploaded. I don't remember what took us so long to start writing. Anyway, now that we have, we hope you enjoy this chapter and please do leave a review. We really love all your little comments. And thank you so much for those who have left comments before. They're absolutely wonderful. Love you to bits for each and every one of them. Oh, and I hope you don't mind that I backtracked a bit and wrote Hermione's POV of The Kiss. It seemed fair, you know? Anyway, hope you enjoyed that bit as well. Kisses then! Ciao. - Skye


	14. In Which a Secret is Revealed

**Chapter Thirteen: ****In Which a Secret is Revealed**

DRACO

I returned to Hogwarts with the feeling of dread looming over my head. While emotions with Hermione have been sorted out most positively, impending doom was still at hand. Damn that Dark Lord and his hunger for power and muggle blood. He really knew how to destroy a relationship in progress, didn't he?

"Malfoy! Back at last!" Zabini greeted me once I stepped inside the castle.

"Did mummy make sure ickle Draco came back to a full recovery?" Pucey added, taunting me.

I arched an eyebrow at him and before he knew it, I hexed him with a nonverbal spell to silence him. "What was that you were saying, Pucey?"

He glared daggers at me and made an indecent action with his hand involving his middle finger. I laughed at him, earning an even more spiteful glare. Damn, it was good to be back. My friends gave me the distraction I needed, if only for a while.

"I imagine you twats have been dead bored while I was gone," I said with a smirk, only to be snorted at by Pucey (who was still incapable of speech, but muffled grunts and other bodily noises could still come out of him).

"So much, I cried every night," Zabini said and looked at me with such longing that it brought shivers down my spine.

"Tell me you're joking, Zabini, or I'll have to break your neck."

"What the bloody hell do you think, Malfoy?" he retorted, looking at me disdainfully.

I shrugged. "I know how irresistible I am, how anyone could question if I make my male friends turn against women because of my gorgeo-"

Before I knew it, I was being hexed by the both of them (Pucey being quite skilled at nonverbal hexes as well) and was made to drag unceremoniously immobile down the stairs to our dormitory.

-cc-

After being nudged and prodded back to mobility for several minutes, Zabini and Pucey looked at me expectantly. We were back in our dormitory with no one else inside, the hour still a bit early and for reasons unknown, Zabini and Pucey decided to cut short their Hogsmeade trip just see me back. (Okay, not really reasons unknown, but all the same, it is unsettling to think of the whys. I will not go to lengths at this anymore.)

"Well, what happened? We heard Potty and your new found love talking in Madame Puddifoots. I think she quite fancies you, mate," Pucey said, after my hex on him wore off.

"And why she suddenly warmed up to you, bugger all if I know a reason why," Zabini added. "And don't you answer that, I'm sure you'd have an answer to it that will only get you knocked unconscious and immobile again."

I merely shrugged and smiled serenely, knowing full well it would infuriate them just as well.

"Are you going to act like an arse all day, or will you tell us if your life is still hanging on a thin line?" Zabini asked, exasperated.

I shrugged. "It still is, but not for the same reason anymore."

Zabini groaned and lay back on the bed he was sitting on, which was just parallel to the one Pucey and I was sitting on.

"Love it when you speak cryptic, Malfoy," Pucey said icily.

"I know, sexy, isn't it?" I goaded them. They looked at me as if I were daft. Or quite possibly gay because Pucey suddenly backed away from me.

I rolled my eyes. "Just returning the favour Zabini gave me, don't take it seriously mate."

Pucey still looked a bit put out, but relaxed somewhat. Zabini just gave me a grin. "So – your life? Still hanging on a thin line?" he said, prodding me back to the subject at hand before Pucey went all homophobic on me.

I thought it over. Should I tell them? While their families are not supporters of the Dark Lord, they aren't against him either. And if this got out to Crabbe and Goyle, whose families _are _supporters of the Dark Lord… well.

"Spit it out Malfoy!" Zabini said in an annoying sing-song voice.

I stiffened. "You have to swear to me this will not tell anyone," I said in a deathly still voice, knowing full well the impact it had on them.

They both straightened up and looked at me seriously, having understood the gravity of the situation. Slowly, they nodded their agreement. I reached over to my books and grabbed a spare parchment and a quill and quickly wrote down a binding contract and had them sign it.

"If this lets out, be aware that it's your blood you're spilling," I warned at I touched my wand towards their signatures and with blood red ink magically covering the original black ink of their writings, the contract being fulfilled, they nodded solemnly and looked at me, waiting for me to say the worst.

I stuffed the parchment deep into my robes, which will later find a safer place to be kept filled with anti-theft and all other protections.

I pulled up the sleeve of my robe, showing them the Dark Mark that has been scorched onto my skin last summer. Before I knew of my destiny.

Understanding dawned on the both of them; looks of shock and outrage were exchanged.

Pucey grabbed my arm and stared at the ugly mark for a long time and threw it away, repulsed at what he saw. "What did you do that for?" he asked in a dead whisper.

I shook my head, not knowing what to say.

"When?" Zabini demanded. "When did you do this singularly brainless act of insanity?"

"Last summer," I mumbled. "As was expected from me, from our family, I agreed to this. You know, just like the muggle prince is assumed to take over the role of king, so I'm –"

"Assumed to lack brains?" Zabini asked sarcastically. "When will you have to act on that?" he nodded at the Dark Mark etched on my forearm.

"Soon," I answered. "I have yet to be summoned, but my mum told me that the time is near."

Quickly, Pucey took charge, sealing the windows and the doors and placing a charm over the room so we won't be heard to anyone outside. Not that it was possible, as we were all talking in hushed tones anyway, but I suppose he felt it would be safer.

"You will tell Granger what you need to tell her, and then stay as far away from her as you can. If the school finds out, if any other Slytherin finds out, you're to be killed by the Dark Lord himself, as well as Granger."

I nodded, knowing what I had to do even before he said it. "Do you plan to fight with him?" he asked, his dark blue eyes looking at me sharply. Zabini stayed quiet throughout the whole ordeal.

"Not if I can help it."

"What will you do when he summons you? You can't just flee."

"I'll answer to him."

"And what of Granger?"

"She'll know I loved her."

"You're planning to _die_?"

"After all we've been through, securing Granger's acquiescing just to save your bloody life, and you're willingly giving it for _him_?" Zabini asked angrily, finally ending his silence and rising up from the bed where he sat.

"I'd rather die than have him kill Hermione," I said calmly, understanding their fury was deserved.

"You think he'd leave Granger at that? No matter the case, with you alive or not, she'd still die. She's a bloody mudblood, is what she is! And don't look at me that way; you know I have nothing against her now. I'm just saying that even if you're to die, she'd still be killed because of her blood status. Now would you rather give up your life for absolutely nothing, or stand up for her?"

"I don't want my family to get involved in this," I said, grasping for reasons even if in fact, I had no idea what I should do with my life. "He'll kill my parents."

"Your parents are brilliant wizards, Malfoy. Don't underestimate them. And I doubt your mum would have you sacrifice yourself for her life. Not this way," Pucey said quietly.

I roared out my frustration and sank down to the floor, leaning against the bed behind me. "One way or the other, I'd still die. With or without Granger," I said morosely.

Pucey hit my head – painfully. "Shut up Malfoy, we can get through this. Don't think about the future, it's not written on stone. Just tell Granger what needs to be said – and you better take all the precautions you can get – and as soon as she understands why you have to leave her for the time being, we'll figure out what to do next."

-cc-

"Doesn't it all look so peaceful? So gorgeous? So silent and deserted we can do whatever we please tonight?" I asked Hermione, looking at her with a grin. I suspect she knew what I was insinuating as she continued walking down the corridor, as was our duty, and peered into dark classrooms, checking for stray students.

"This could be a good place, though it's a bit dusty," I said brightly, still smiling down at her. Which may probably be leery-like because she frowned at me and made a face.

"You wish, Malfoy," she said and still continued walking down the corridor.

"I do, actually," I said, still optimistic of what the night will bring.

"Wishing will bring you nowhere," she said tartly, but the sides of her lips were threatening to smile.

"Really?" I murmured softly, holding her by the small of her back and tried to pull her close to me, only to be hit on my abdomen.

"Hey, ouch, quit it!" I said testily.

"You started it," she retorted and walked away from me.

"Just a simple, 'stop it you blindingly beautiful skeez,' would do. You didn't need to resort to violence," I grumbled as I walked behind her, rubbing my abused stomach.

She shrugged and opened another room to check for stray miscreants. I sighed. I knew I had to tell her, but the look of horror on her face kept popping up in my head and it wasn't the least bit appealing. Actually, it was slightly amusing; I keep seeing her eyes wide open and flaring nostrils with steam coming out of them. But it still slightly terrified me knowing the fury behind it.

"No one in there?" I asked.

"Nope, want to double check?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

I rolled my eyes. "Are you still challenging me to defy you? If you say there's none, then there's none," I said calmly and strode inside the room, pulled out my wand and called out a spell to double check.

"Arse," she grumbled icily.

I smiled at her. "I love it when you get all riled up," I said and snickered. "Come on, I need to tell you something and I'd like to get it over with."

She narrowed her eyes at me. "Right. I believe you."

"Oh come off it Granger, you can trust that when we do it, it won't be in a mouldy classroom that smells like century-old sweat. Just come in, we have to talk."

HERMIONE

I looked at him sceptically.

"Well?"

"First you have to promise you won't get all Gryffindor and angry at me," he said, looking completely serious, I didn't have it in me to strangle him. I glared at him instead.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded.

"Gryffindors act so self-righteous sometimes…" he started but something in him told him to cease all attempts of critical analysis. His Veela connection, I presumed. "Okay, okay, just promise me you'll stick to being the wonderfully level-headed person you are and that this has nothing to do with how I feel at present but what's done is done."

"Oh spit it out, Malfoy. You have me thinking you've gone and murdered someone." He visibly paled at that, and Draco Malfoy turning even paler than he normally is isn't an easy feat. "Oh dear Merlin, you have, haven't you?!"

"No, no, of course not. That's rubbish," he said, shaking his head. "It's slightly different than that…"

"Uh huh, we're going around in circles here. Just tell me, I promise I'll _try _to keep a level head."

He sighed, almost defeated, but seemed to accept my proffered promise. He lit his wand like a torchlight and slowly rolled up his sleeve to show me…

The Dark Mark.

On his wrist.

_His_ Dark Mark.

Marring his porcelain skin.

I made gagging noises, the very thought of a Dark Mark being near me was horrible enough. The Dark Mark on him, well that was just plain sickening. I was heaving, my dinner earlier threatened to come out.

"Hermione?" he asked, almost fearfully.

"Why?" I managed to croak out.

"This was last summer, before I found out how I felt for you. Before everything else," he said, as a way of explanation, not that it made anything clearer for me. I wished the ugly mark away over and over in my head to no avail.

I backed away from him and frantically looked around me, a new thought suddenly entering my mind. I feared everything he told me of love and passion were just lies and he lured me here as a plot against Harry. Against Professor Dumbledore.

"Hermione, please," he said, practically begging.

I reached for my wand and pointed it at him. "What do you want from me? Are your fellow Death Eaters coming for me as well?" I sneered, wanting to show him I wasn't afraid, even if I was, I truly was.

He looked bewildered at first, and then saddened. "No one's coming for you, not now, not yet," he said and in a show of surrender, he let his wand slip to the ground and held up both his hands. "I'd never hurt you, Hermione, you should know that by now."

"How am I supposed to know that, when all I know at this very moment is that all you ever told me could possibly be lies," I said. A tear fell from my eye, and quickly after that, a flood of tears followed through. "You lied to me, Malfoy."

"No, not about that," he said, "I kept the Dark Mark from you because I was afraid of how you'd react. But everything else remains the same. I love you. And I promise I'll find a way to get away from this. I don't know how to do that yet, the Dark Lord… he doesn't know of my mate yet, but until he does, you're still safe. I'll protect you, even if I die trying. And Potter, yeah, he'll protect you. And Dumbledore as well. But the war's coming soon, and I'm expected to participate. But not with you, obviously. I don't think that will be a problem, I might be able to convince –"

"You're rambling," I interrupted him and furrowed my brows. But then I thought of what he said again.

_I promise I'll find a way to get away from this._

_I love you._

_I'll protect you. Even if I die trying._

It made circles round my mind. _I love you. I promise. I'll protect you. _Over and over again, his words resonated in my mind. And the sound of his voice, so sad, so beseeching, made me want to believe him. No. It did make me believe him. I smiled. He frowned, confused at seeing me smile.

"You believe me?" he asked ever so carefully.

I nodded. "Yes. I don't know why I should, but I do."

He let out a huge sigh and quickly closed the gap between us and hugged me tightly; I could almost feel my ribs break.

"Malfoy," I rasped out, having my breath knocked out of me. "Can't breathe."

He quickly released me and murmured his apologies. "We'll have to keep this… this friendship of ours a secret first. You understand, right? I can't have him finding out before the war starts and do something to you. I can't… I can't bear the thought of you in his hands."

I looked up at him, his eyes glazed over with unshed tears, and for a while, the mask of the past Draco – the annoying git of a ferret – was nowhere in sight. And in his place, someone sincere and innocent. Someone I could trust. I leaned my head on his chest and breathed in his scent and relaxed.

"If we must," I whispered.

-cc-

DRACO

"Wake up," I roused Zabini from sleep early the following day, pulling his covers away from him and he reacted quickly to the shock of the sudden draughtiness.

"Wha-?" he mumbled, still dreaming, eyes still shut.

"Time to wake up," I ordered him. "I need you for back-up."

"What time is it, Malfoy? A bit too early for robbing Gringotts, don't you think?" he mumbled and rolled over his other side and pulled his pillow on top of his head.

I snorted. "I'm not as brainless as you think I am. Now get up, I need to speak to a certain Gryffindor and I need you there to prevent another Gryffindor from pummelling me face down on the dirt."

He made a grunting noise and turned back to face me, his eyes barely cracked open. "At the moment, you have a very sleepy Slytherin to worry about pummelling you."

"No, I don't. You're too sleepy, too tired and weak to be able to do any sort of damage. Come on, get up."

He sighed, frustrated, but knowing full well that he won't be getting any sort of sleep any more at that moment. "Why is it I suddenly feel that I'd rather feed you to the Dark Lord than help you out?" he muttered, but rose and started looking for his clothes in his trunk.

"Hurry up, would you?" I said without acknowledging his question.

-cc-

Zabini looked at the ugly portrait in curiosity. "This is what protects the Gryffindors from outsiders?" he scoffed, obviously unimpressed.

"I beg your pardon?" the lady in the portrait asked, scandalised.

I shrugged. "I don't understand the logic behind it either, but you just have to let them be."

"So why don't we go in already?" he asked impatiently.

"I don't have the password."

"You don't?" he asked dead patronisingly. "You don't have the password?"

"What makes you think I have it?" I asked, irritated.

"I thought Granger might've told you. She doesn't trust you much, does she?"

I glared at him and didn't bother to dignify his question with an answer. It wasn't needed anyway. A few moments later, a short, stocky boy emerged from the portrait. I pulled him by the back of his robes and looked him down. Honestly, it's so easy to accost and frighten first years; they should invent a game for it.

"Go back and get me Potter," I ordered him.

He looked at me, utterly petrified, and nodded. He rushed back inside and five minutes later, a wide eyed Potter and a dishevelled Weasley approached me. And of course, not to be missed were their trusty wands. Do they think I deliberately look for them just for duels and laughs?

"Get dressed – properly dressed, I'm sorry if you don't know how that means Weasley, but I need you two looking better than that. We're out in public for Merlin's sake!"

They both glared daggers at me. "What do you want Malfoy?" the Weasel-Man asked.

"Your help," I said simply. They looked back at me, stunned at what they heard. Zabini looked at me as well with a similar look of astonishment on his face. "Get dressed, we need to talk. I'll meet you in the Astronomy Tower in fifteen minutes, so hurry up."

I started to walk away but turned around after a quick thought and called out, "oh and Weasley, do brush your teeth, would you?"

-cc-

They moved quicker than Zabini in the morning, I'll give them that. Less than fifteen minutes later, Potter and his sidekick arrived in the Astronomy Tower, looking no better than before but at least they were dressed for public… and had shoes covering their feet.

"What is it you need, Malfoy?" Potter asked wearily and sat on one of the chairs away from us and Weasley followed suit. They were tired (I assume) from trudging up the stairs to the tower. Zabini complained about it all throughout the devastating climb muttering all sorts of curses along the way.

"I need you to help Zabini and Pucey with Defence Against the Dark Arts," I said.

Zabini looked at me in surprise. "What? No. Don't listen to him, he's delirious. He has no idea what he's talking about. He woke up just a little past dawn, you can't trust anyone who does that, can you?"

I shot him a look of contempt. "They need it," I said, talking to Potter.

"Failing Defence?" Weasley asked tauntingly.

Zabini returned my glare and turned to Weasley. "No. I've never failed a subject in my life, and that's not for the lack of trying. It's a gift Zabinis are born with."

"Then what's this extra help you need?" Potter asked, obviously confused.

"That's what I'd like to know as well," Zabini said and looked at me for an answer.

"You know the Dark Lord's about to attack, father's told me about what you and Dumbledore are up to," I started.

Potter looked shocked. "How'd'you know that?"

"He told me about it, before I returned to Hogwarts from St Mungo's. He's in the same boat as Snape is now."

"He's turned spy?"

"Not a spy, per say. But that's neither here nor there. I came here to have you train Zabini and Pucey in Defence. There's nothing wrong with their class work, it's the practical stuff they need. Since we both know the Dark Lord is making his move, it's going to be a complete war zone in here and they need all the practise they can get."

"You're forgetting one thing," Zabini spoke up. "Pucey and I might be on neutral grounds as of now, but if need be, our families will stick to the Dark Lord. You know that."

"I know. But Hermione changes all that."

"How so?"

"Look, you're my friend, right?" I said, lowering my voice, not wanting the other two hear what I was saying.

"Yeah…" he said slowly. "Unfortunately."

"I want you two to keep an eye out for her when the time comes. You'll be fighting on the Dark Lord's side, but I still want nothing to happen to her. So you two have to be properly skilled, I hope you understand what I'm trying to say," I said, saying the last part softly.

"My mother won't like this," he said with a shake of his head. "She knows of the upcoming war and explicitly told me not to get involved."

"And when have you ever listened to your mother?"

He grinned at me. "You make a good point, my friend. But wouldn't it be better if the entire school is well-prepared? That'd make a brilliant story in years to come."

"So… you want me to teach the entire school?" Potter asked stupidly.

"No, no, you're too busy saving the wizarding world for that." I said idly, thinking about the possibilities. "What we can do is have Dumbledore issue mandatory extra-credit DA classes so that even first years will be prepared from attacks."

"Not bad, Malfoy," Weasley said approvingly. I shuddered. Me and him agreeing on even the smallest detail needs a little getting used to. It gave me indigestion and I haven't even had anything to eat yet. "Lupin can probably teach the entire school in the Great Hall after normal class hours, although we'll need more teachers. Integrated teaching doesn't seem as effective to me…"

-cc-

_**Important**_** Author's Notes – please take time to read:**

(emits huge sigh)

First of all, as per usual, I'm very sorry for having this chapter delayed.

Secondly, I have kept Hermione's part quite short because if anyone has noticed the change in writing styles, I was the one who wrote her part. Although Skye may be back to write again, as of now, she can't really be bothered to make time to write. Trust me, I've tried. And so constructive criticisms on the way I wrote Hermione's part is much _needed_ and appreciated. Please send in your thoughts on how I can improve on that aspect. Or on any aspect, for that matter.

And lastly, as Skye is temporarily (or maybe even permanently) on hiatus, I'm now in need of a beta reader until Skye returns to her post again as writer/beta, given that this chapter is a train wreck of atrocious grammatical errors. If anyone is interested, do send me a pm.

My deepest thanks and apologies.

-Sloane


	15. And the Games Begin

DRACO

**Chapter Fourteen: And the Games Begin**

DRACO

I was a little dreadful and stirred up with motion sickness early the next day. Both of which I attributed to the fact that I'd have to work with two Gryffindors just for the survival of my mate.

"So what's on the agenda today?" Zabini asked as we walked up the flight of stairs to the direction of the Great Hall. "Are we really going through with the DA idiocy you came up with yesterday? Because that's just making me queasy, and it's not a good feeling, I'm telling you."

"I don't like it one bit either, but hey, every step to not dying, is a step well taken, I'd say."

Zabini sighed. "I don't like this at all. It's unsettling, you know."

"I do, actually. I've been feeling weird ever since I woke up. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we get to breathe again. This motion sickness is very peculiar."

"Motion sickness?"

"Yeah."

"I admit, we'd be going through all sorts of nausea with just the thought of having to work with a bunch of sissy Gryiffindors, but motion sickness is not one of them."

I shrugged. "It may be a Malfoy thing," I said with an air of world-class snobbery I learned from my mother.

As we reached the top most stairs, a scrawny but firm pair of hands grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and pinned me to the wall so quickly, I saw colourful swirls of red, white and black.

"Where's Hermione?" the owner of the hands asked furiously.

Weaselby. I should've known.

I smacked his restraining hands away from me and straightened my crumpled shirt. "While I do love being blamed for things I have not been clued on, I must say this: I really don't know what you're going on about, Weasel."

"No one's seen Hermione, we were waiting for her to come down but she never did. Lavender says there's no one else left in the girls' dormitory."

I frowned. "Go on."

Weasley shot me a frustrated look. "What do you mean go on –"

"Exactly as I said: go on. Continue. Do tell us the more delightful part of your story. Because I swear to Merlin, you red-headed freak of nature, if that's the only reason you ruined my shirt and pinned me to the wall, I will box your ears until they are no longer attached to the sides of your head."

"Hermione's gone missing and that's all you have to say for yourself?"

"Potter, do control your friend, he's acting like a wildebeest. It's too early in the morning for me to face this sort of lunacy."

"You haven't seen Hermione either?" Potter asked instead.

I rolled my eyes. "What part of 'I don't know what you're talking about' don't you understand? Honestly, Gryffindors can be so slow."

"She's not in Gryffindor Tower, surely –"

"Perhaps the library?" Zabini sniggered, interrupting Weasley from another babbling rant. "It's not unusual for her to spend her days and nights there, is it?"

"This early in the morning?" Weasley practically yelled. "I doubt it's even open at this hour."

"Have you ever tried going to the library this early, Wee-Wee?" I asked condescendingly. I sincerely doubt he's ever stepped foot inside the library, let alone know the library hours.

"Well, no," he answered grudgingly, looking at his shoes which were marred with mud and grime.

"It's open from eight in the morning til eight in the evening. And oh, look at that," I feigned surprise as I looked at the hourglass by the window on the right. "It's eight-fifteen."

Weasley frowned at me, allowing that Granger might indeed be in the library. Merlin only knows what she could possibly do there so early in the morning.

"Now if you'll excuse us," I gave them a dead patronising look, "we're hungry and have no time for bumbling Gryffindor idiots."

Zabini and I traipsed towards the direction of the Great Hall, relieved to be relieved of Potty and Wee-Wee. The two definitely complimented each other. The Potty being able to contain the Wee – if you know what I'm saying. (Enter smirk here).

"What the – ouch! That hurt," I grumbled, feeling like I was just thrown out of a moving carriage and landed right smack on my behind.

Zabini looked at me, bewildered. "What hurts?"

"Did someone just dare to kick my arse?" I looked behind me, but there was no one there. Except for the Bloody Baron, and he looked menacing enough for me to shut my mouth. It's not like ghosts can physically hurt humans anyway.

My friend looked even more bewildered, but also amused. "No. Would you want me to?"

"Ow!" I grasped my elbow, feeling it scrape against something. "Okay, I'm definitely feeling some voodoo magic here. I'm sorely being beaten up, and I can't even retaliate!"

"Voodoo?"

"You know, it's when someone tries to – ouch, quit it!" I glowered at Zabini when he smacked me upside my head.

"I know what it is, you retard. Why would someone do that to you?"

"Jealous? It's not rare that someone –" I paled. I felt sick to my stomach, and… fear? I was afraid. Of what, I didn't know.

"What's wrong with you now?" Zabini sighed.

"I'm scared." I said this in a pitiful way, girly and trembling with a slight strain on my voice – borderline strangled scream if I'm to be honest.

Zabini looked at me – stoic at first, and then bellowed out in laughter, grasping his knees in support. "Funny, Malfoy, ever the hilarious Slytherin. Now can you stop your thespian mode for just an hour? I'm hungry."

I clutched his arm. "I'm serious."

"You better be glad I'm not Crabbe or Goyle, you've been keeping me from breakfast far too long. And I'm starting to get crabby. Speaking of seafood, let's go check the Great Hall for something to eat, alright?"

"Alright already," I said and picked up our pace to the Slytherin table. Before I had a chance to sit down though, I was being dragged from the back of my robes to the opposite direction.

This being dragged around in places was starting to get tiring.

"Oy!" Zabini called out, standing up from his seat, followed by Pucey.

"What the bloody –"

"Hermione's not in the library," a voice said from behind, the instigator of the pulling of robes.

"Thank you for that information. I know this may come as a surprise to you, but – ouch! That has seriously got to…" I blanched, finally connecting the dots. Granger was no where to be found. My arse and limbs are being abused every other minute or so. I was afraid of something for no particular reason.

Oh no.

"Perfect, just perfect," I said sarcastically, pulling my robes out of Weasley's grimy, filth-infested hands. We've come to a stop of playing pull-and-be-pulled and were now at the very back of the Great Hall. "My robes have been tainted with blood-traitor hands, and my muggle has been kidnapped. Is there anything else that could go wrong today?"

"Oops," a pale, quivering Hufflepuff said, looking at me helplessly and in horror.

Apparently so. The Hufflepuff just spilled a smelly concoction on me that has now spread over my robes and seeped into it. Whatever it was, it was quickly turning my skin to a putrid shade of green.

I closed my eyes in frustration. "Tell me what this is and how it can be countered, or I will Avada Kedavra your sorry arse right this minute!" I growled out.

Ugly Clumsy Hufflepuff had no answer for me. Instead, his eyes watered and started gasping for breath in between sobs.

"Answer me!" I shouted. I saw him jump in fright. "Or you'll be serving detention with Filch for the rest of your Hogwarts life. And don't think that just because I'm graduating this year, I won't see your punishment carried out until _your_ seventh year."

"It's – it's non-reversible," he squeaked out. "But it will fade within twelve hours!"

I heard muffled laughter from behind me. If there's one thing that can join two Gryffindors and two Sytherins together, it's the sight of me in a faded green colour.

"Fifty points from Hufflepuff for carrying potions unsupervised outside of the classroom," I barked out. "And be thankful I have other pressing matters to attend to, or your arse would be Filch's."

Ugly Clumsy Hufflepuff trembled and nodded quickly at his punishment before running away from me. Stupid first years and their overeager attempts at magic.

I turned back to Potter and Weasley. "Granger's been abducted. No idea who's done it, all I know is she's being bruised up badly."

Potter's eyes narrowed. "What's happening?"

"I can feel her fear; feel her arm scraping against… it feels like soil. Definitely not asphalt."

"Where is she?"

"No idea," I muttered darkly. "I wish I knew, that way I can get my hands on her abductors and Crucio them until they wish they were sent to dementors instead."

"We have to find her."

"No, you have to stay here, Potter. The Dark Lord is targeting this place. I can handle searching for Granger."

"You don't even know where to look for her," Pucey argued.

"Yes, I do. She's out of the country, someplace tropical. I can feel it." I closed my eyes, trying to feel our connection, thinking of her face, every line, every detail, until I could no longer see her. All I saw were trees lined up in a brown background, and two ignorant abductors fighting over how to tie my hands – no, Granger's hands.

It was vivid, so vivid that I took in a deep breath, surprised at this sort of connection. I couldn't hear her thoughts, but I could see exactly where she was. It was as if I have taken her place. But when I opened my eyes, I was still in Hogwarts, in the Great Hall and in the company of my friends. And my not-so-friends.

"Accio Nimbus 2002," I said, holding out my hand and waited for my broom to come to me.

"What are you doing?" Zabini asked.

"Saving Granger," I muttered. "Stay here, especially you, Potter. The Dark Lord's coming, and you need to be here to save the day."

"What about you?" Potter wanted to know.

"I know where she is, and I know how get to her," I replied curtly as my broomstick arrived and dropped to the floor, completely missing my outstretched hand. I sighed and rolled my eyes before picking it up from the floor. What a wuss. If I had a Firebolt, it would've landed right in my hand.

"What about us?" Pucey demanded.

"You two stay here," I said, going outside and stepping on my broom. "And tell Crabbe and Goyle they're in for a world of trouble when I come back."

--

I reached the gates of Hogwarts and looked for a good place to apparate. Clutching my broomstick tightly, I closed my eyes and focused on the place I saw a while ago. It wasn't too hard to visualise, I've already been to that place last summer when father showed it to me. It's one of the emergency hide-outs used by Death Eaters during a crisis.

I apparated just outside the camp (because I obviously can't apparate inside as it's protected by all sorts of magic) and flew around, searching for an entry point. Because I've already been there, it wasn't hidden from me. I saw a red tent next to the campfire, and a lone person tied to a tree. They didn't even bother with a guard. They were probably inside resting.

Slowly, I made my descent quietly and stopped to cover my broomstick under a pile of branches and leaves before making my way to Hermione. I mean, Granger. Whatever. My muggle.

Careful not to make a sound, I walked to her tree and quickly covered her mouth before she could make any noise.

"Ssh," I whispered.

She looked at me with horrified eyes.

"I'll try to get you out of here. Keep quiet, okay?"

She nodded her head. As soon as I took my hand off her mouth, she had the nerve to ask me why I was green. "What's with the skin colour, Malfoy?"

"Can't you just be thankful I'm here to save you from this hellhole?" I frowned. Some people are never grateful. "Your handcuffs have been magicked, I can't undo it."

"And precisely for this reason, we've magicked it," Crabbe (the older, more grotesque looking version of Vincent Crabbe) stepped out from the shadows and showed me an evil look worthy of a Death Eater. "Whatever have you done with your skin, little Malfoy?"

Shit and double shit.

HERMIONE

I was happy – for that one moment, I thought I was about to be set free from the two goons Voldemort deemed competent enough to hold me hostage and threaten Malfoy to join the Death Eaters again. Of course, my saviour turned out to be a wilting shade of avocado green, but a saviour is a saviour nevertheless.

"Whatever have you done to your skin, little Malfoy?" Older Crabbe asked, arriving at the most opportune time to have the upper hand.

"Oh, you know," Malfoy answered, waving a hand flippantly. "School. Nasty business, that, but at least its Slytherin colours, don't you agree?"

"Quite becoming," Older Crabbe agreed. If Student Crabbe was vile when seen munching on anything edible (or inedible, for that matter, if I think about it again), Older Crabbe is viler. And even worse at trying to make conversation.

"Alright, let's get this over with," Malfoy said, a little exasperated. How he could even sound offish at such a delicate time is beyond me. But I suppose that's part of his charm – wait, did I just say _charm_? Ugh, the African air must addle the brains a bit. "What is she doing here, and what can be done about it?"

"Simple: join us and she lives."

"You do know that if you kill her, you're just as well killing me, right?"

Older Crabbe nodded. "It's a chance the Dark Lord is willing to take. He's quite possessive of his followers, you know."

Malfoy was quiet for a while. I couldn't see his face as I was still pathetically tied to the tree and he had his back against me, talking to Older Crabbe.

"And if I refuse, do you kill her right away, or what?"

"If you refuse, we've been given permission to torture you ruthlessly first until you give in. If by the time the Dark Lord makes his move and you're still a stubborn git, we kill you first – make the little mudblood here feel guilty first before doing her in as well."

"Ah. Interesting choices. Mind if I have a moment with my mudblood?"

I seethed inside. It was one thing for Older Crabbe to call me mudblood, and a completely different thing for my betrothed (if you could call it that) to call me that loathsome name.

"Ah-ah. Can't allow that. You see, if you're left alone with her, you could easily find a way to take away her bindings… nope. Not a chance."

"Then take a few steps back. I'm not spending my one time reunion with my mudblood with you hearing what I have to say."

I bristled again at the word mudblood coming from his mouth.

"I'd rather hear them. Escape plans and everything."

"I won't be escaping! At least, not yet. Oh, fine. Have it your way. It's going to be mushy 'I love you' bits anyway. I hope you throw up your breakfast."

Turning my way, Malfoy crouched and touched my cheek gently. "I know this is not the best time to declare my love for you, but I'm doing so now, just in case I don't get the chance to in the future.

"So what do you think, should I join them? Have you extend your life just a bit? Mine too. I'm quite fond of my life, you know. Which is why I kept wooing you and everything – why are you looking at me like that?"

"You called me a mudblood!" I seethed.

Malfoy looked at me in disbelief. "I don't know where your priorities lie, darling, but we're stuck in Congo with two beasts ready to attack at just the small sight of escape, and you're going at me for calling you 'mudblood'?"

"It's something I don't quite appreciate," I hissed. I was not caving in. No matter how gorgeous his steely silver eyes gazed at me in frustration. I wanted an apology, and I was going to have it.

"Fine, I won't call you that again. Now can we please continue with our flight plan?"

"Let me hear you apologise first."

He looked at me – disbelief, anger and frustration clouding his eyes. "Are you bloody serious? You are, aren't you? Oh dear Merlin, I have no idea – you know what? Fine, I'm sorry. Okay? I'm sorry I called you that name, it was wrong of me to do so and I am asking for your forgiveness."

I sniffed. "Apology accepted."

"I am this close to pulling my hair out with your absurdities," he raised a hand, showing how close he was to madness.

I shrugged. "You call me mudblood, you lose your hair."

He fixed me with a fierce stare (completely heart melting, if you must know, but let's keep that between ourselves) and after a while, buried his head on the side of my neck. I felt him breathe in deeply before turning to look at me again.

"I'm not going back, I won't be joining the Dark Lord," he whispered, suddenly very serious, and very sad. "I know it's not something you'd want me to do, even if it would save both our lives."

I stared back at him. A part of me, the part that really wanted to live and spend my days with him, wanted to tell him to go rejoin the ugly bastard. The other part, the one with more sense and loyalty to Dumbledore, readily accepted his decision.

I leaned forward, wanting to be close to him. As if sensing what I wanted, he closed the gap and wrapped his arms around me.

"What if you pretended to fight on their side?" I whispered, very softly so Older Crabbe wouldn't hear. "Play a double agent or something."

"And leave you here, in the hands of two dim-wits?" Malfoy whispered back, caressing my face, lightly touching my lips, my collarbone. "I don't think so. They're not to be trusted."

I sighed. "I don't want to see you tortured."

He looked at me straight in the eyes. It was like he was searching for something. He shrugged. "I've been through more torture at school seeing you kiss that bloody marsupial. I think I could handle this. Besides, I'm quite good with my wand."

I nodded shakily. It was as if we had no choice on the matter anymore. He turned to face Older Crabbe again but I stopped him.

"Malfoy –"

He turned to look at me expectantly and knelt down at my side, sweeping a stray lock of hair back behind my right ear.

"I…"

He cocked his head, patiently waiting for what I was going to say.

"I… Draco, I love you too," I whispered, closing my eyes, still a bit embarrassed at revealing what I felt. Especially in front of Older Crabbe.

And it was true, I did love him. Even if I knew he was doing this just because I was his lousy mate and he'd end up dying if I died, a huge part of me has fallen for him. He's deeply compassionate, although it's hard to tell as it's all locked up in some strange Malfoy box of emotionlessness. He's willing to befriend my friends whom he's hated ever since who knows when. He's willing to stand up for me, his (I have to say it) mudblood mate. And is completely defying the Dark Mark on his arm by coming here to rescue me. Of course it helps entirely that he has god-like looks.

What came next was a surprise – a good, heavenly surprise. I suddenly felt his hands on my face and as I opened my eyes, I saw his mouth descending on mine. It was hard and ragged, full of frustration and sadness. It was like he was packing everything on this kiss, which could very well be our first and last.

"Oh, that's just sickening," came a second voice from behind.

Older Goyle, I presumed. But I didn't turn to look, and neither did Draco. He was intent on what he was doing, and I had no complaints. Except I wanted to be free from my binds as I also wanted to hold him, but it didn't matter. He pressed himself upon me, twirling his hands round my hair, kissing me this way and that, pausing briefly for air. He tasted sweet, I noted, when I felt his tongue on mine. The best kind of sweet I've ever tasted.

"Alright, that's enough," Older Goyle growled out. "No need for us to see this. It's time for your doom, Draco."

He felt him sigh as he lightly nipped my bottom lip and traced my jaw line with his mouth. "I love you," he whispered and gave me one last kiss before he stood and faced Older Crabbe and Older Goyle.

"Let's get this over with," he said wearily and pulled out his wand, pointing at them.

"Accio wand," Older Goyle called out, a little lazily and smiled at us. "You didn't think you'd have the opportunity of using your wand, did you? No, no, we have something much more special than an uneven duel."

With another flick of his wrist, Draco went flying up to the tree next to mine, and dangled on it with a rope wrapped around his neck. I gasped, feeling a sickening shove in my stomach.

"No!" I cried, tears flowing out. I saw him flail in the air for a second, clutching the rope that secured his neck (magicked rope, no doubt), before a thick plank flew up beneath his feet, supporting him and I saw he was able to breathe again.

"Don't worry, mudblood," Older Crabbe said, smiling gleefully down at me. I returned his smile with a hateful glare. "We planned this just so, so that you'd feel guilty about his torment for days.

"You see that plank of wood? It stays right there today. Tomorrow, it goes a notch lower, until by the end of the week, you'll see your lifeless boyfriend dangling like a piece of meat laid out to dry."

Laughing, the two creatures left us. Draco was looking down from where he was; a deeply apologetic look on his still avocado-green face. I couldn't bear it. I didn't want him to feel like it was his fault, because it wasn't. It was that stupid Voldemort who should be hung on a tree to die.

I hung my head and started to cry.

--

**Authors Notes**: Yay. We're back. We're really sorry for the delay (let's blame the holidays and how it completely fills up writer's block), but its all gravy now. You've probably noticed Hermione's part as being shamelessly scathing and too… well, un-Hermione-like. Three guesses why. makes face but fear not! Skye has resumed her post as second writer (after I, Slone, have written the entire chapter), so expect more authentic Hermione POVs in the coming chapters.

Also, a massive thanks to everyone who has waited for this chapter and read until the very end (including this postscript), and most especially to those who offered to beta for me. I've been meaning to email two people back, but that was before the hols, and before I was beaten down to dirt by a horrible case of writer's block. And since Skye has returned, well, I have my beta back! smiles

So thanks to everyone, sorry for the disappointment (if in case I've left any) and you'll be seeing more of us in a hurry. We'll try to update more regularly if possible.

Please review! :)

-Sloane


	16. Virgin Suicides

_AN: In honour of the sixth Harry Potter film (which I really enjoyed, no matter what anyone says and no matter how many discrepancies it has compared to the book) and a few reviews of 'continue this damn story', I give you the next chapter of the story. And so, apologies for the delay are once again in order._

_On a side note, I'd like to recommend listening to Heads Will Roll (by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs) as you read the battle part. :P_

_Let's get this chapter s_tarted. –Sloane

**Chapter Fifteen: Flight Plan**

Virgin suicide  
What was that she cried?  
No use in stayin'  
On this holocaust ride

-Jeffrey Eugenides

DRACO

Marvellous. Supremely marvellous. A thick, uncomfortable rope was coiled around my neck and the plank of wood Crabbe and Goyle so generously left below my feet (I say this with utmost sarcasm) wavered left to right. I had to balance myself just right or I'd be responsible for my doom.

If I had to blame someone, which I always do, I'd start pointing my finger at my father. Him and his stupid Veela gene. Everything was fine and dandy before I had to imprint on Hermione. I looked down to make sure she was left unharmed. Her head was bent forward and I could hear hushed sobs from her. I sighed. The sight was already painful in itself, but being the Veela freak I am, I could also feel the pain and guilt _she _was going through. I'm still a bit peeved at having to undergo all these just for her. But at the same time, I couldn't see myself doing anything else but be at her beck and call. Oh the trivialities of love.

Okay. How to get out of this mess. I know I've been far more than arrogant about being skilled in wandless magic, but I really only knew the easy stuff. I didn't exactly read up on how to escape abductors. Which, thinking about it, what with my wealth and all, I really should have.

"Malfoy," a voice that sounded so much like Zabini whispered in my right ear. It came so unexpectedly, I was jolted in surprise, not helping my circumstances at all, with my plank tittering dangerously to the far left.

"What the hell, Zabini," I muttered back as I struggled to keep my balance intact. "How'd you find me here?"

"Puce and I got hold of the last traces of your apparition and followed you here. It's a good thing we did, too."

"Pucey's here?"

"Yeah, down there… somewhere. Alright. So, how exactly do we get this rope off you?"

"Like I'd know."

"Nice. You must really love having a rope round your neck, you ingrate."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm glad I have a slim chance of surviving this whole ordeal, but how the hell would I know? I have no idea what sort of spell they did on this rope in the first place."

Zabini tutted. "Hold on, I'm sure I brought that flick knife with me. I always bring it with me," he said, mostly to himself, and started rummaging around his pockets. After several seconds, he held out a silver and black flick knife that shone brightly under the hot African sun.

"A flick knife? Really? Against a magicked rope?"

"Alice is not just _any _knife—"

"It has a _name_?"

"My dad purchased it for me years ago from goblins," he continued, pretending I haven't said a word. "It's known to work against even the darkest of spells. Of course, I've never actually tried it out. But we'll see, shall we?"

Silently, he began cutting against the rope, and surely enough, it fell freely unto the ground. And also as surely enough, without the rope centring me on the plank, I slipped and went down fast, freefalling into the ground. Browns and greens sped by so quickly, it took me a while to notice someone was gripping the back of my collar tightly and that I was already choking.

Seconds later, I was back on the ground, sputtering and telling off Zabini in the quietest possible way I could. "Admit it, you're working for _him _now and want to see me dead."

Zabini glared at me furiously as he stepped out of a Nimbus 2000. "How was I to know you have no sense of balance whatsoever? After all that I've gone through, tracing you all the way to Africa, almost suffering heatstroke, riding on a broom and going high up in the air and completely disregarding my fear of heights –"

"What fear of heights? You're the one who thought it was cool to jump off my bedroom window when we were ten to, as you phrased it: 'Be just like Peter Pan, the flying wizard'."

"Flair for dramatics. Whatever. You should be grateful, you unappreciative son of –"

"Draco!" a voice so sweet tingled through the breeze and I forgot everything, except getting her out of here safely.

"Give me that," I said, grabbing the flick knife from Zabini and rushing towards Hermione's side and starting cutting off her bonds.

"You almost fell to your…" she trembled, looking at me with utmost concern in her eyes.

"I'm fine," I tried my best to comfort her and cut off the rope as quickly as possible. Finally, she was free from them and she immediately wrapped me an embrace so tight, I felt air forced out of my lungs. "Come on, let's go—"

"You're not going anywh—"

"_Petrificus totalus!_" I heard Pucey's voice yell from somewhere behind us and the older Crabbe and Goyle fell down on the ground with a soft thud.

"So what's the plan now?" he asked, jogging up towards us, his wand on his left hand and his broomstick on the other.

"I have no idea," I said, looking around and seeing both Older Crabbe and Goyle were lying on the ground looking very much cold and still. I grabbed Hermione's hand and helped her stand next to me, still a bit nervous about our predicament.

"We can't leave them here," Zabini said, looking at the two thoughtfully. "Obviously they'd get back to the Dark Lord – who, as we speak, should now be in Hogwarts – he'll kill us. Though the advantage to it is, they'd also be killed."

Pucey smirked down at the two Petrified peons. "Imagine that, defeated by two seventeen year olds. And I mean me and Zabini, by the way."

Yeah. Whatever. I snorted.

"If you're expecting a thank you…" I began.

"Not at all. I know I won't be getting one from you Malfoy. I just wanted to point out, we saved your butts. That's all," he said smugly.

"Maybe we should tie them with the ropes they used on us? That way, they'd be found once we're back in Hogwarts," Hermione suggested.

Pucey looked at her in shock. He probably forgot they saved a muggle butt. I glared at him hard enough for him to take notice and he raised his hands feebly in the air in response that meant he didn't care.

"Right you are, Granger," Zabini said, nonplussed, and grabbed the ropes that were lying on the ground and made his way to Older Crabbe and Goyle. Wordlessly, I followed suit and flipped Older Crabbe around so he faced forward on that ground and tightened a long piece of rope around his wrists whilst Zabini worked on Older Goyle's ankles first.

"How do you know You-Know-Who is in Hogwarts?" Hermione asked as we were adjusting the ropes and making sure they were secure enough. Having broken the ropes, we weren't sure if the charms were still in effect, so we had to make sure it was still as tight as possible.

"He made his presence felt," Zabini said, trying to make light of the matter. But even with the playful tone of voice, I could tell he was dead serious about what was happening.

"Do tell," I replied in the same lazy, light manner.

"He was calling for Potter as we were racing to follow you fly out. 'Potter, come out, come out wherever you are. I have a bone to pick with you,'" Pucey tried to mimic the Dark Lord in a very low voice. "I have to say, he has an even scarier baritone than Snape. It was very deep and had just a slight bit of an Oxford accent."

"How…? How were you able to hear him? Did he get into the castle?" asked Hermione, bemused.

Zabini shrugged. "Nah, he was still outside. No clue what he used. All we know is that it was heard all throughout Hogwarts. Maybe like one of those things Lee uses during Quidditch matches."

We were just about done with the ropes, when Pucey sat on a giant root that sprouted from the ground and looked up at the bright blue sky. "So I was thinking," he said slowly, "we could stay a few days here. I'm sure your lovely captives have set up camp and we can use that for the duration of our stay."

"And avoid the ongoing war, you mean?" Hermione gave him a very pointed look. A look which he very pointedly ignored as well.

If it weren't for Hermione and her thirst for having to go head to head with danger, I would have sided completely with Pucey. Honestly, we're on the safe side as it is. What's the point of going to a war zone with a 70 per cent chance of dying a most tragic death? But again, feeling the emotional connection, I knew Hermione was dying to get this strategising over with and wanted to head back to Hogwarts at the soonest possible second.

I sighed wearily and rubbed my forehead. Dismayed, I noticed my skin was still green after all that has ensued. I looked like the long scorned Elphaba, a witch with a mutated gene that caused her skin to be permanently green. I don't know much about her except that she wasn't exactly popular growing up. As far as I know, she still lived in the land of Oz with her nitwit boyfriend Fiyero. On the up side, at least it was Slytherin colours. I could go to war defending the next generation of wizards in my House colours.

"Malfoy, don't tell me we'll be staying here until the war's over? What about our school mates?"

So it's back to Malfoy now, is it? What will it take for her to just admit that she likes me? I was sorely tempted to stick out my (possibly) green tongue at her, throw a raspberry and tell her to go ahead if she wanted to. But dammit, my Veela senses were getting stronger and stronger and I no longer live for my Epicurean self, but for her and her happiness. No matter how unreasonable her demands were.

"Yes, yes, we're going back to Hogwarts to get our arses horribly kicked," I said irritably. "Don't get too uptight, we're just thinking of a way to get back there without being tracked by Lord Voldie."

"Apparate in Scotland—" she started but I frowned at her. Like it was that easy. There were several points in Hogwarts that could provide an entrance, but which were the safe and unguarded ones? She seemed to sense what was troubling me and didn't say another word.

"You know, I saw several people, like Lupin for instance, get inside Hogwarts. How'd he get there?" Zabini asked.

Pucey sighed. "I can't believe we're heading back there. It's complete suicide."

Time stood still for a while as Zabini and I contemplated the decision. After a while, Hermione spoke up softly. "You don't have to go. I can just borrow a broomstick and I'll be on my way."

I rolled my eyes at her. Such a martyr. "As if I'd allow that to happen," I said. "No, if you die, I die. I might as well die with a big bang. Come on, let's just wing it. If anyone asks, we're on the Dark Lord's side and we've taken Hermione as a sacrifice of some sort."

She glared at me.

"You have other brilliant ideas tucked up your sleeve?" I retorted.

She simply harrumphed and looked away. Snickering, Zabini bent down to pick up his broom and tossed my broomstick at me.

"Where'd you get this?" I asked, surprised.

"Found it lying around under some sticks and branches of trees. I figured you'd need it for the next Quidditch match."

I laughed without humour. I never realised how much of an optimist Zabini was.

--

Hours later, we found ourselves in the middle of absolute anarchy.

We managed to get inside Hogwarts through Hog's Head as we saw a lot of people coming and going from above as we circulated Hogsmeade on our brooms. Tom the Barman was sceptical when we said we wanted to get involved in the fight and said most of the Slytherins have already fled the castle and wanted to know if we had taken any sort of medications for us to want to enter the ongoing warzone. Seeing the positively pissed off look on my face (I really wanted to throttle him at that point not so much because of the medications comment, but because of the implications that Slytherins were cowards. Which we are. But he had no right to think that.), he shrugged his shoulders and showed us the pathway to get to the Room of Requirement and into Hogwarts proper.

Running out to the hallways, we could hear screams and wailing sobs. I pushed Hermione back into the room.

"For once, can you please just listen to me and stay in this room until after the war?" I pleaded. Zabini and Pucey made gagging noises in the background that I pretended not to hear. "Let me take care of this. Not that Potter isn't doing his bloody Calling."

She looked at me like I was mad. "_Harry_," she emphasised the use of his first name, "is one of my best friends and I'd rather not leave him to die like without at least helping. Now shove off."

I could feel the anger bubbling in her, and so once again, I gave in to her idiotic demand. Tugging at my hair in frustration, I stalked out of the room with her following quickly behind.

We went down the stairs in a fit of hurry (blame Hermione) since most of the commotion was happening on the ground floor. On the plus side, it seems like while we were gone, the battle had gone on for well over what the Death Eaters could handle. I saw the numbers of the opposing side (that would be, ahem, Voldie's side) were significantly less that our side. I presumed our chances of winning were a bit higher now and felt less anxious than I was before. Still, I held tightly on to Hermione's hand, keeping her behind me and using my body as a makeshift shield for her. I could see blazes of light flying every which way as though they weren't paying attention to where their spells were directed at and just sloppily fired away.

From behind me, I heard my betrothed's voice yell out "Crucio!" and it made my heart leap in a most negative way. For one, she was in no way capable of the Cruciatus Curse because of her kind heart (or naïveté). For another, it was completely out of character for her to use an Unforgivable on…

Hold on.

Who did she curse?

From my peripheral vision, I saw a sallow skinned woman with dark messy hair making her way towards us.

Aunt Bellatrix.

And she was looking at Hermione in a most terrifying way that made me believe she would actually harm said betrothed of mine. It enraged me so bad that I felt my blood boil at just the way she stared at Hermione murderously. With all the hate I had in me and with surprising swiftness, I quickly pointed my wand at her and completed the curse Hermione failed to do.

It was powerful enough for her to scream in pain as she struggled to stand upright again. Using this distraction, I pushed Hermione into the safe arms of one Ronald Weasley who had ran toward us when he heard Aunt Bellatrix's scream.

"Draco," Aunt – I mean Bellatrix said, looking at me the exact way she looked at Hermione not moments ago and pointed her wand at me. "I knew your gene abnormalities has forced you towards the Mudblood, but really? Cursing your favourite auntie?"

"Can't help it," I shrugged and just as I was about to hit her with another curse, she yelled out "Crucio" loud and malevolently that I heard it even as I fell to the ground and lost all consciousness.

HERMIONE

I gasped out loud as I saw Draco's body fall limply onto the floor and dragged mercilessly across to the other side of the room until he was bludgeoned roughly against the staircase.

Tears started to form around my eyes I saw this unfold in front of me. Not even bothering to think, I yelled out the first curse that came to my mind. _"Sectumsempra"_ I screamed and immediately felt defeated when I saw that it did not even go anywhere near her. Ron clutched my arm fiercely and led me behind a wall as a spark of red light shot out of Bellatrix's wand aimed at me.

"Draco…." I said hoarsely, gasping for breath and trying to keep my sobs to a bare minimum, knowing crying would only make me even more useless. Once again, I tried to get back at Bellatrix, only to take note of Ginny battling her this time and Mrs Weasley pulling her out of the way to take care of Bellatrix.

I scanned the room for Draco and saw a tall man with white blond hair race towards the staircase. For a second, my heart pounded quickly, before I came to realise it was only Lucius Malfoy and that Draco still lay on the floor in a bloody mess.

Breaking free from Ron's grasp, I ducked oncoming curses and raced to Draco's side, clutching his cold hand and fervently whispering to him to wake up. Blood matted a side of his head and trickled down his neck and his right cheek and eye were bruised.

Suddenly, another blonde head appeared in front of me and clutched Draco's other hand, her blue eyes teary and was as hysterical as I was.

"Will he be okay, Lucius?" Narcissa Malfoy asked, looking down at Draco, concern and worry clearly evident in her eyes and in the way she scrutinised his wounds.

"I don't know," Lucius murmured. "Granger," he nodded curtly toward me. That was as much acknowledgement I got from him before he turned around and started firing shots at black cloaked Death Eaters.

"He'll be fine," Narcissa was saying, looking down at her son.

"I… I'm…" I was at a loss for words. I was responsible for this. He sided with Zabini and Pucey with wanting to stay in Africa as the battle raged on but I had to be stubborn and practically forced him to come with me. Not directly, but I knew he wouldn't be able to leave me to my own defences. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

Surprisingly, Narcissa's hand, light and unsteady, went atop mine. I gazed at it in astonishment.

"It's not your fault," she said kindly.

"But I… I told him…I'd come here. With or without him. He wanted to stay. I shouldn't have. I shouldn't…"

She gave me a small smile. "It doesn't matter. He'll be fine. He will. Because you love him now. And he knows that. He felt that. Thank you for loving my son. It's the most I can ask of you."

I sobbed even harder and louder. She was speaking as if he was dead. He can't be. He won't be. I refuse for it to happen.

In the background, I can hear Voldemort and Harry speaking to each other. Talking about Elder Wands. For once, I didn't even bother to know what it was he was saying. All I could do was focus on Draco and his unsteady heartbeat.

I leaned forward and tucked my head on top his chest and under his chin, whispering for him not to leave me. For once, I was very afraid of the possibility of a future without Draco Malfoy.

I learnt in Biology that the last of the senses to leave a dying person – not that Draco was one, no he was far from that – was the sense of hearing. I concluded that even subconscious, he'd still be able to hear me.

Leaning up once again, I touched my lips to his ear. "I love you," I whispered.

His hand jerked a little in my hand before falling limply again. And he was no longer breathing.

--

_AN: So sorry to everyone who have waited and asked if I have intentions of ever finishing this story. I DO. I __promise__ to update again as soon as I possibly can. There are only two or three chapters left (maybe, I still haven't worked it out) so you can be sure that I won't leave this open-ended. I'll update even quicker if you all leave really fabulous reviews. Haha. _

_And yes, that was a reference to Wicked (by Gregory Maguire), proper disclaimers must be assumed. :) Love you all. xx_


	17. Aftermath

**Chapter Sixteen: The Aftermath**

HERMIONE

With a lot of others seriously injured, the school infirmary was filled to the brim. Professor Dumbledore, also one of the many injured in battle, had asked several healers from St Mungo's to help Madame Pomfrey. Not that they sent a lot. St Mungo's was also doing overtime because of the aftermath. As for those who were not able to make it, they were covered with white sheets and family members dealt with all the death papers, the morgue, everything. It was the most I have ever cried in my life.

Ginny and Luna were injured, as well as several other students. Gashes here and there, broken bones. Miraculously, Harry made it out without so much as a fractured rib. He had bruises left and right, but was otherwise fine and didn't need medical attention.

And Draco?

DRACO

Hermione loves me. Hermione Granger loves me. The love of my life (yes, you may throw up) loves me.

Well, you can guess what kept me alive.

As I was laying on the ground, battered and bloodied, I felt her weighted upon me. I was almost pretty gone. I was so tired and completely out of it, I felt ready to give up and just wanted to sleep forever. But then I felt something tug at my heart. And I realised she was crying. I knew I couldn't leave her like that. I knew I had to do something to make her happy -- it was practically my life goal to keep her happy. And right then, I knew I can't die. I didn't allow myself. So I forced myself to stay conscious. As much as I just wanted to rest, I forced myself to keep on breathing and held on the longest I can.

And then I felt it -- love consuming me all over. I knew then. She loved me. And when she said it out loud? I was so filled with emotion that I passed out.

And passed out I did.

HERMIONE

When they brought him to the infirmary, I refused to be shooed away as Madame Pomfrey was so adamant to do so. Who was she to say that I wasn't allowed to be next to him on his_death_bed just because I wasn't family?

Thank goodness Lucius was good for something. He quickly spoke to Madame Pomfrey and I was swept away to Draco's side and didn't leave it. Not for food or water or even the call of nature. Okay, maybe for the call of nature. But for the rest, Narcissa was kind enough to call on a house-elf and ask for meals for me. Normally, I would ask her not to boss them around, but just the fact that she and her husband allowed me to stay by Draco's side was incentive enough for me to keep quiet. Besides, she was doing it for me, so I suppose that makes her alright in my book.

He was asleep most the time but would wake up for several minutes a few times a day. Zabini, Pucey, Crabbe and Goyle would come over, make small talk with me, but usually would just check on how he was doing. Not a word was said about the war.

By the third day, he was awake for more than the usual five minutes.

DRACO

I'll admit it, I squeezed out as much Hermione time as I could. I knew she'd just as soon turn hostile on me the moment I wake up to full consciousness. I know her that well. You can't fault me for wanting more of her sniffles and declarations of love, can you? Besides, my friends kept popping in and out, and much as I do appreciate their concern, I also knew they'd start roughing me up when they find out I'm actually healed to perfection.

But by the time the third day rolled in, I was fed up with lying down every single second with only a few minutes reprieve. And I wanted to walk around and make use of my legs that have started to weigh like cows.

I smiled and felt hands brushing through my hair, combing it back and out of my forehead. Without even having to check, I knew it was her. I was just that connected.

HERMIONE

His eyes fluttered open and I stopped automatically. I didn't know why. Reflexes, I suppose. I was too used to distancing myself from Draco that I can't act normally around him. Even if I wanted to.

"Why'd you stop?" he asked groggily.

"Erm." I didn't know how to answer that.

He sighed and intertwined our hands. I didn't protest. He smiled.

It was comfortable. Just us two and the comfortable silence between us. It was as though we had some sort of unspoken truce and a secret only we knew. Of course, everyone knew by now, thanks to the school grapevine. And Zabini's loud mouth.

"So," Draco started, breaking the silence. "You love me, huh?" He said this with a playful grin on his face that I couldn't help but smile. "How much exactly?"

I scoffed. Like I'd ever tell him that. Besides, I wasn't sure myself either.

He pulled me closer to him. "I know," he whispered and smirked cockily.

I arched an eyebrow. "What exactly do you know?"

He gave me another annoying look that made me want to injure him again but I refrained myself. Because of well, the little known fact that I sort of love him.

_Four days later_

Well they say it's the bad ones that die last as he's well alive. No, I'm not bipolar, but he's been acting even more insufferable ever since they wheeled him into the infirmary and I've been attached to him like his long lost Siamese twin. I've just recently learnt that he was prolonging his sickbed bit because apparently, being the Veela he is, he may keep things from me, but never actually lie. And when I asked him how long he's been doing for the past few days... well you can guess how his answer was.

He spluttered a bit, trying to cover up his stories, but ultimately, the truth came out in the end.

I suppose I could always tell him that were it not for me loving him, he'd be good and dead by now. But that's just digging the hole even deeper. He's been sending me arrogant smirks all day and after staying by his side for a full week, I've decided I had enough and stormed out the infirmary.

DRACO

As I've said, you can't blame me for wanting to squeeze out as much Hermione time as I possibly can. Unfortunately, in Hermione's twisted mind, you can. She up and left just a few minutes ago and I've been feeling a little lonesome. I swear, she's too emotional for her own good.

I'm not too worried though. I have my Veela perks and I know she just needs space from me and the rollercoaster feelings that I've been sensing from her ever since I regained consciousness.

Wanting to move around for a bit after being bed-ridden for the most part of the week (with 15 minute walks every so often when Madame Pomfrey and Healer Lyttleton would allow me to do so), I put on warm boots and a sweater my mother left for me and proceeded to go down to the kitchens. I asked a house-elf to keep the chocolate cake Hermione gave me in the refrigerator and I felt I needed a bit of that.

Halfway through my second slice of chocolate cake, I heard someone shuffle in and greeted by cheers and welcoming shouts from the house-elves. I didn't have to look up to know it was Hermione. I felt her stomach grumbling all day long because she missed dinner in exchange for an argument from yours truly. Why she keeps trying to argue with me, I don't understand. I'm on her side now. Old habits die hard, I suppose.

She noticed me. I could feel it, once again. Her heart jumped in surprise and I knew she wanted to get out.

"You can't still be angry with me?" I asked, not turning around. "I'm sorry I wanted to spend time with you. If you can't forgive me for that now, at least grab some food before you go. I know you're starving."

She was confused, that much I knew.

A minute later, she had a plate of cheeses, bread and sliced apples and sat down in front of me.

I quirked an eyebrow. "I didn't think you'd sit with me."

"I thought you hated chocolate cake?"

I blushed. I could feel the blood rushing to my face and I mentally slapped myself. I stuffed my mouth with more cake and refused to answer her question.

"Well?" she asked expectantly.

"You gave it to me," I mumbled, hoping the cake would over up whatever noise came from my mouth.

No such luck. She grinned.

I feel forgiven.

"Does this mean you really like chocolate and pretended not to? Or you're starting to like chocolate?"

She really knew how to get to my nerves, didn't she? Instead of going for the offence though, I shrugged and told her the truth.

"I felt like being with you. Since I didn't think that was going to happen any time soon, I settled for this."

She sat there looking dumbfounded but I knew her heart was beating wildly. I smiled slowly and tried to hide it from her by ducking my head. She's easily pissed off and I wouldn't want to set her off right now.

As a Veela, I could only sense her emotions, not her thoughts or her rash decisions. So imagine my surprise when she stood up and leaned forward and kissed me right smack on my lips.

My eyes widened for a split-second. But I was soon quick on my feet and held her head close to mine and kissed her back with all that I had. She was too far though, and I wanted that fixed. I cut off the kiss, much to her surprise and was next to her in seconds, jumping over the table. I grinned when she smiled slowly, knowing what was coming next.

I pulled her down on my lap and pressed my lips to hers again. This time deepening it by opening her mouth with mine. She was hesitant at first but soon got into it and tasted my tongue with hers. I felt her shudder and I smiled. I must be doing something right. Especially for her hands to wander. One was stroking my nape and the other was down my back and pulling me close to her, which was no longer possible as we were so close to each other, I could feel her curves against me.

Breaking free and needing air, I moved to her cheek and trailed down to her neck and kissed her deeply. She didn't know it yet, but I was soon creating a mark. Yes, I admit, I was marking her as my territory and I'm not at all ashamed. She groaned out loud and I chuckled to myself. At that, she bit my neck.

"Feisty, are we?" I asked, moving my lips up to her ear and to a sensitive spot behind her earlobe. She made a scoffing sound and ignored my question.

After a heavy snog fest and a decline to look for the Room of Requirement at this late hour for some extra-curricular activities that brought a lovely shade of red to my betrothed's cheeks, I walked her back to Gryffindor Tower.

We stopped in front of the Fat Lady (again, it amuses me how this comical character is the one in charge of the people entering and leaving their dormitory) and she gave the password. She said the password out loud, right in front of me. You don't understand how good this little action made me feel. She trusted me. Finally.

The portrait swung open and she turned to look at me, doubt and confusion clearly etched on her face. I didn't need to be a Veela to read that.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

Not saying a word, she closed the small gap between us and wrapped her arms around my neck. Standing on tiptoes, she pulled my head down slightly and kissed me. Surprised, but nonetheless enthusiastic, I returned the kiss. It must have been a really long time because I heard the Fat Old Lady coughing in the background and muttering things like "inappropriate", "how vulgar", and "isn't it getting late?".

Untangling herself from my body, Hermione looked up at me with a healthy blush on her cheeks.

"Good night," she said softly.

"Good night," I returned and gave her one last peck on the lips. "I love you." With that, I ushered her in, made sure the portrait was closed shut before I walked away.

"She loves you too!" the Fat Lady trilled once I was a few steps away.

I chuckled. "I know!" I called back.


	18. Holidays and a Warm Gooey Draco Feeling

**Chapter Seventeen: Holidays and a Warm Gooey Draco Feeling**

DRACO

I blinked, the morning sun invading my dreams and brought me back to the land of the living. Sighing at the realisation that I was still in the infirmary, I looked down at my hand, having felt something warm covering it. What I saw made me smile.

Attached to my right hand was one Hermione Granger. She was propped up on a comfortable looking chair to my right and seated Indian style with a large book on her lap. Her left hand was on top my right while her right hand was used to flip the pages of her boring book.

Deciding to surprise her, I sat up quietly and quickly leant over and kissed her on the lips. Her reaction? Not as I'd hoped.

"Aaah!" she screamed, jumping up. The book on her lap fell noisily on the floor with a thud. "Ow!" she hopped on a foot, sat back down on the chair and rubbed said foot where the book landed on.

Uh-oh.

She looked at me with a glare on her eyes and a frown on her mouth. I gulped. She was not pleased.

"Erm. I love you?" I managed weakly and gave her a pitiful smile, one she did not return.

Ooh… she was angry. Her face was beet red and she kept glaring at me whilst rubbing her injured foot. How was I supposed to know she was a jumpy, paranoid person?

"I love you a lot?" I tried again. No such luck. "I'm really, really sorry. I just wanted a good morning kiss from you."

She looked at me disbelievingly. "So instead of the normal way, you go about it by shocking me senseless?"

"I thought it would be funny," I mumbled, unable to look her in the face anymore. She wasn't seething angry, but she was annoyed enough to make me actually fear looking at her. What has she done to me?

HERMIONE

I suppressed a grin. How the mighty have fallen. Draco Malfoy, former bully and muggle hater is now avoiding my eyes and actually looking ashamed of himself. Not that what he did was wrong, it was just the consequence that was unwelcome. I loved seeing him squirm. I wasn't exactly angry, but my foot was throbbing and I was just getting to the good part when he, out of nowhere, surprises me.

Still giving him an irritated look, I picked up the book from the floor and dusted it off. "I'll see you later," I said, and stood up to take my leave. He looked at me with sad, forlorn eyes that reminded me of my little cousin Tarquin who would use the same tactics to get what he wanted. Although I wasn't entirely sure if Draco was putting up an act.

"Where are you going?"

"Great Hall."

"I'll come with you," he said, but it sounded more like a question. He seemed to actually be looking for an approval from me. I looked at him in surprise. He genuinely wanted to know if it was fine by me. To say I was puzzled was more of an understatement. I was baffled beyond belief.

I was just about to say no, and that he should rest, when Professor Dumbledore arrived with Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy following behind him. What was this about? I looked to Draco, silently questioning him as to why his parents were here. He shrugged, understanding my look of confusion.

"Ah. I knew you'd be here, Ms Granger," Professor Dumbledore began, a beatific smile on his face. "As you both know, because of the injuries and damage sustained by both students, professors and this castle alike, classes have been called off."

Somehow, this news saddened me. Both because I remembered the loss of people I cared for, but also because I was really anticipating for classes to start again.

"As it's almost December, we have decided to have an early Christmas holiday and send students back home. Classes shall resume a few days after New Year's. Letters have been sent to your parents and the Hogwarts Express is scheduled to leave later this afternoon."

I felt Draco take hold of my hand. I didn't bother to shake him free. I knew what he was thinking: we won't see each other for more than a month. I knew he was going to miss me, but what came as a shock to me was that I was going to miss him as well.

"Thank you, professor," I said quietly. Giving us another smile, Professor Dumbledore nodded towards Lucius and Narcissa and with that, he left the room.

DRACO

One month.

One incredibly long and dragging month.

I knew Hermione was dreading this as well. I turned to my parents, gave my father a pointed look, and with a smirk, he led mum outside to wait for me.

"One month," Hermione breathed out, still in shock with the announcement.

"Yeah," I echoed hollowly. I looked at her from my peripheral. Her brows were furrowed and she was biting her bottom lip again. I squeezed her hand. "I know your parents have been notified," I said, cringing at how formal I sounded. "But I don't suppose you'd agree to spend a few days at my home, would you?"

I looked at her expectantly, vying for the 10 per cent chance that she'd agree with my unplanned plan. My heart skipped a beat when I saw her head nod. But until she actually verbalised it, I won't be jumping for joy.

Insert huge, massive, mega large pause here.

After fifty years, I hear her voice. "Yeah. I'd like that."

Grinning wildly and knowing full well I looked ridiculous, I pulled her onto my lap and squeezed her tight. "Really?" I asked, still in awe and couldn't believe I would have her all to myself for a few days – weeks even, if I manage to persuade her once we're at home.

"Yeah," she was a bit breathless, this I suppose is partly due to the fact that I probably knocked the wind out of her with my tight hold on her. I lightened my hold on her and kissed her cheek, to which she responded with a very pretty blush.

After having heard Hermione's decision, father and mum agreed that she could stay over in a heartbeat. This is one of the very few reasons I think my parents are cool. But you'd never hear that from me again. Relish it whilst you can.

I waited for her just outside the Fat Lady's portrait as she packed her bags for the holiday. Just as I was about getting quite acquainted with Ms Lady who was chatting on about a Sir Robin of Locksley when the portrait swung about with Ms Lady still chattering on and Hermione appeared wearing her casual muggle clothes.

"Hey," I greeted her with a warm hug. In the background, I heard an annoying cough that you would recognise right off that it wasn't so much a cough as a vaguely discreet noise intended to notice said cougher.

Ron Weasley. I should've known.

Don't get me wrong, I've attempted a truce of sorts with the little bastard, but old habits prevail. And he can be such an arse at times. It's sad knowing he's permanently stuck in my life on the account of Hermione and me getting married in the future.

Yes. Married. Geez, don't get your knickers too bunched up.

"Yes, Weasel?" I asked wearily.

"Play nice," Hermione hissed at me. I plastered the most un-fake smile I could force myself.

"We know you're going to be regular fixture in our lives," he started and shook his head as though he was making the biggest mistake of his life.

"I know. I'm sorry about that as well."

"Yeah, so anyway, Hermione usually spends Christmas with my family, and since you're practically inseparable and my mum forced me to do this… well, she's asking you to come over for Christmas."

Had I been drinking something, I would've choked on said drink. As it was, I was already coughing, having choked on my own spittle.

"Over..." I said in between my hacking fit. "Over… to… your… your… house?" My eyes were tearing up. I could see Hermione at my side trying to control her laughter. Like she had to, I already knew how amusing she found this display.

He merely shook his head and shrugged. "I know. My mum comes up with the weirdest ideas. After you're finished coughing though, she also extended the invitation to your parents."

I raised a hand, telling him to wait while my coughing died out. "You're mum's really something," I finally said after a minute and leaned on Hermione for support as I brushed away tears from my eyes.

"So…?" he was still looking at me expectantly.

Grudgingly, because Hermione was by my side and looking at me with her piercing brown eyes that practically screamed 'we're breaking up if you don't do this', I nodded. "Yeah. I'm not sure how my parents will take this, but yeah, I'll be there."

He looked at me, shocked, mouth agape. Yes, I knew exactly how he felt.

"I'll…" I shook my head. "No, Hermione will send you a post once everything's sorted out. I don't want to spring this on my parents like you did me. They might die of heart attacks."

He nodded slowly. "Alright then. I'll see you when I see you. Do you mind?" he motioned towards Hermione.

Mind what?

"He won't mind," she answered for him and reached out towards him. Only then had I realised he was reaching out for a hug. Instead of blocking him like my brain was telling me, I let them hug it out. I am such a spineless fuck.

Surprisingly, I didn't feel anything unusual. Just the regular 'step away from my girlfriend you prick or I'll kick your arse', but other than that, I had no attacks to my nervous system whatsoever. I smiled to myself. And then I narrowed my eyes at them. Did they really have to hug for so long? I mean, they're seeing each other on Christmas, for Merlin's sake!

"Alright, alright, that's enough," I drawled, pulling Hermione back to my side and gave Weasley a withering glare.

He chuckled. "Good to see you haven't fainted or fallen over."

"See you three weeks, Weasel," I said icily. With that, I took Hermione's bag from her hands and lifted it over my shoulder and grabbed her hand and walked away from the annoying arse.

She was still giggling when we reached my parents at the entrance of the castle.

HERMIONE

It took an hour by a magicked flying carriage of sorts to get to the Mafoy Estate. It was vast and opulent in nature. The garden landscape was impressive, to say the least. There were tasteful sculptures around the driveway and bushes of roses lined up around them.

We were standing by the entrance with doors that stood ten feet tall and gold knockers. I was positive they were real gold and not just gold-plated.

I gulped. What did I get myself into?

Draco, as always knowing the emotions that lay behind my stricken features, squeezed my hand gently. Amazingly, the anxiety and fear died down immediately.

Three house-elves immediately greeted us and took control of our bags, with Narcissa giving them instructions on where to place them. As much as I wanted to ask if they were being paid (chances were obviously slim), for Draco's sake, I kept quiet. It wasn't as if they were being mistreated anyway. They seemed to adore Narcissa and Draco. Lucius, on the other hand, they were looking at with fear clear on their eyes. I decided to let it go. Lucius can be scary at times, but accepting me and my blood status for Draco, he had to be alright on some level.

"Draco, dear, why don't you show Hermione her room for the duration of her stay here and help her get settled? I'm sure you two are tired from the travel," Narcissa suggested. "Supper is at seven, I'll have Winky send for you two."

With that last statement, she took Lucius' hand in hers and took him to some part of the house.

"Come on," Draco took my hand and led me to the left side of the house, guiding me through the grand hallways covered in elegant wallpaper and led me up a long, winding staircase found at the end of a hallway. After following his lead and turning left here and right there, I was officially lost. I made a mental note not to try to wander off by myself or I'd surely get lost and die of hunger.

Finally, we stopped in front of a mahogany door, which Draco pushed open and led me inside. "Honey, we're home," he drawled, letting me look around the place as he shut the door quietly behind him.

It was large, larger than the room I had back home, with wooden panels and silver and white curtains, an entire wall of shelves stuffed with books, a wooden four-poster bed wrapped in navy blue sheets and overstuffed with white pillows, a desk to one side that held several frames of photos and an owl's cage perched next to it.

But on his door was something odd and didn't make sense. I walked towards it, and upon closer inspection, I saw it was an old drawing of a toddler, maybe 3 or 4 years old. It was of a blond family, the parents flanking the sides of the young blond child. Beneath the drawing, spelled out in capital wobbly letters, were two words: "DRACO'S RUM"

"My four year old self accidentally cast a spell on that," Draco said from behind me. I turned and saw he was busy looking for something in his desk drawers. "Couldn't take it of even if I tried. And believe me I've tried it many times ever since I got accepted to Hogwarts."

I smiled. It wasn't in anyway a masterpiece, but it was a piece of him I never knew. A piece of his past that proved he wasn't always so horrible.

"What are you looking for?" I asked, sitting on top of his desk and getting a closer look at what he was so frantically searching for.

"Nothing in particular."

I rolled my eyes. "So where will I be sleeping?"

He turned to look at me blankly. "What do you mean?"

"You know, for the several days I'll be living here, where will I sleep?"

Gazing around the room with a puzzled look on his face, he turned to me and said, "is this not acceptable? I could have someone to change the décor if you don't like it…"

I was starting to get nervous again. "You mean… I'll be sleeping here?"

He looked hurt. Oh no. "Not unless you don't want to," he shrugged, trying to make it sound like it wasn't a big deal.

"No, no, it's not that I don't _like_ this room. But where will you sleep?"

Was he blushing? Were his ears turning red?

"Here?" it was more of a question.

"On the bed?" this has got to be, by far, the stupidest question to ever leave my mouth.

He sat down next to me and held my hand, pulling it over his lap. "That was the plan. But you don't have to. I can arrange for a room for myself."

I gulped. It wasn't that I didn't like having to share a room or anything. But the memory of last night flashed through my head. I wasn't ready for _that_. At least I don't think I am.

Sensing my worry, he smirked at me. "Don't worry, I may be a hormonal teenager, but I do know you're not yet up for that."

Now it was my turn to blush. "Shut up, Malfoy."

"Nice rebuttal, _Granger_," he teased.

I hit him lightly on the chest, and before I knew it, I saw swirls of blue, white and brown and then I was on my back and he was hovering on top of me. He was grinning down at me and tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear.

"You're so beautiful," he said in the most gentle voice I've ever heard.

My eyes widened noticeably that he laughed out loud. I swatted his arm again and was ready to say something sarcastic when he shut me up the best way he knew: he kissed me full on the mouth. Whimpering and then slowly acquiescing, my arms made their way to his back and kissed him back with as much passion as he was.

Later, we were lying down next to each other. His arm was spread out under my head and my arm was around his waist, softly caressing his (he will never know I think this) hard and muscular abdomen.

It was weird how easy it was to talk to him now. This Draco is a Draco I've never known before. He was very patient and understanding. My views on the philosophy is admittedly very subjective and a little on the optimistic side – very much his opposite. But even with varying opinions, he was open minded and even agreed with me on some level. He thought I was funny for liking songs he hated (once I sang it to him, but maybe it's more because of my lack of singing skills than the songs itself) but said he'd try to listen to an album before he forms any solid opinion. He laughed at my childhood antics and threw in some of his stories. And when the subject of love arose, he shrugged it off and told me he didn't expect much from me. Other than my one declaration of love during the war, I never vocalised it again. He shrugged it off and told me he'd wait and moved on to the next topic.

"I love your eyebrows," he said, lightly tracing one eyebrow with his free hand.

I laughed. "My eyebrows? Seriously?"

"That and your mouth…" Enter kiss here. "And your eyes…" Enter kiss on eyelids here. "Your forehead…" Enter kisses on forehead here. "And everything about you."

Have I found my soulmate? Yes, I believe I have.


	19. Christmas with the Weasleys

**Chapter Eighteen**:_Christmas at the Weasleys_

DRACO

The following weeks were pure bliss, albeit sometimes violent. But with both my and Hermione's hyperactive tempers, that much is pretty inevitable. To be left without bruises speaks volumes of how much we've grown accustomed to each other.

Father had a hard time getting used to having Hermione around the house. Once, as Hermione told me, he entered the kitchen to have a glass of juice in the middle of the night and screamed bloody murder when he saw her there in the mid-darkness drinking milk and chatting with Frolic, our house-elf. I didn't know who to laugh at: my father for being scared out of his mind by a harmless 17-year old girl, or Hermione for conversing with a house-elf as though they were the best of friends.

Mum, on the other hand, thought it was just _lovely_and _precious_ that I finally found someone to keep the corners of my mouth pointed upwards. And not in the sarcastic, snarky manner I usually pull on. She treated Hermione like a prodigal child that terrified her in ways she couldn't tell me, but I knew it anyway. Veela intuition and all.

A fortnight later, she felt it was time she went back home. After all, she'd be spending Christmas at the Weasley's and felt terribly guilty if she didn't at least spend Christmas Eve with her parents. Grudgingly, I agreed to bring her home and made plans to see her on Christmas day before she headed off for the Weasleys. I have no intention of entering the deep abyss of hell on my own, thank you very much. Hermione dragged me into this; she must suffer the consequences of her friendship with Weasel, thus having to hear me complain all the way to the (enter shudder here) Burrow.

Having just dropped Hermione off at her parent's in London, I arrived back home and stepped in my house feeling a bit on the gloomy side at having to be parted from her for even just a week. And that was when a huge pile of bricks hit me on the back and I came crumbling down. Or at least, that was how it felt.

"What the f—" I almost cursed, only to be interrupted by a painfully familiar voice that belonged to one Blaise Zabini.

"Uh-uh," he tutted, pulling me back up to stand on my feet. "No cursies, no potty mouthsies. It's the holidays after all!"

"What brought you here?" I rubbed my sore arms that I ungracefully landed on.

"My mum and your mum, friendly chicas they are, thought to have tea and spend the afternoon together. I'm not so sure I want my mum hanging out with yours though, she mentioned something about your early plans for marriage and was positively jealous. I think I hear warning bells."

I grunted, not bothering to reply. What was there to say? Good luck Zabini? By Merlin, I hope his mother finds him a girl who can shut him up. The incessant chattering could use a toning down.

After a second thought, I turned to him and smirked. "Or maybe you hear wedding bells?"

He glared at me. We wandered around the house aimlessly before coming to a stop in front of my father's study. Remembering I still had to speak with him, I made a move to enter.

"We're not stealing anything from him again, are we? My mum gave me hell the last time we stole all his quills."

I rolled my eyes. "No, I just need to speak with father for a moment. Wait for me in the dining room or wherever."

"Right-o. Dining room it is, my stomach could use a little filling up."

Why doesn't that surprise me? Not bothering with pleasantries, I entered father's study and found him bent over the desk and furiously writing down entries on a brown ledger.

"Father?"

He kept scribbling, the quill making scratching noises on the parchment, his eyes concentrated on whatever it was he was doing. It was only a few seconds later that he sat up and acknowledged me with a curt nod of his head.

"Father, I—"

"You're not going to get emotional, are you? I understand you'll be seeing her in a week's time."

"What?" I was at a loss at what he was saying before I even connected his ramblings to Hermione. Although I was a bit emotional, far be it for me to let out my romantic frustrations on _him_. No thanks; I'll take Zabini over him any time. "Of course not! I mean, I…" I spluttered, losing my train of thought. After composing myself, I took a deep breath and started again. "It's about the marriage."

"Oh?" a blond eyebrow quirked and he looked at me in amusement, motioning for me to go on.

"I thought I'd propose to her at the end of the school year."

"That quick? You don't think she'd want to wait a while? You could scare her a bit, you know."

"What's the point in waiting? We all know this is happening, might as well cut to the chase."

He shrugged. "If you're sure you won't get rejected again…"

"I'm positive."

"Well you know I give you my blessing, what else is there to talk about?"

"Well, you know the ring you gave me? That time you told me about me being a Veela?"

"Yes?"

"Where is it?"

"What do you mean, 'where is it?' I gave the bloody ring to you for safekeeping and you _lost_ it?"

I gulped. He looked a bit terrifying at the moment. "No! I mean, I don't know! I chucked it in my desk drawer and now I can't find it."

"If you don't find that bloody ring… you know the powers it holds!"

"Then why'd you give it to me when I was eleven? Obviously, I was too young to take care of it then!"

"Well I'm sorry if I thought my son had an ounce of responsibility, is it my fault I felt like trusting you at that time?"

"Trusting an eleven year old who still couldn't tell left from right? YES! I should damn well think that was a stupid mistake!"

"You are out of line, Draco! If you don't find that –"

"Boys, boys," mum entered the room serenely and placed a hand on father's shoulder to placate him a bit. "Mrs Zabini and I were having the most pleasant time chatting over tea, only to be disrupted by your shouts. Tell me what's wrong before I throw you both out the house."

"Your idiot of a son," father growled, glaring at me in frustration, "misplaced the engagement ring I gave him. That ring is not only expensive and rare, but it has powers that can only grow after years of passing it down from generation to generation."

Mum rolled her eyes at his theatrics. "I know what that ring is capable of. You gave it to me and swore if I ever lost it, you'd strangle me to death. Not that you ever could," she smirked.

"Not a laughing matter, Cissa!"

"Also," she continued, as though father never spoke. "I thought it was inexplicably idiotic for you to leave it to an eleven year old boy for safekeeping, so that night you gave it to him, I took it back and kept it myself. When you need it, Draco dear, I'll give it to you."

I sighed in relief, but not without glaring at both parents. Father for acting like I was an imbecile for misplacing it, and mum for stealing it from me.

"Now see what you've done, Lucius. You've made Draco wet his pants."

"I did not!" I yelled adamantly.

"I'm sure your father will be more than happy to make it up to you. Name your price, darling."

I looked at her in confusion, not sure where this was leading to. If it was money, I certainly didn't need it. It was almost Christmas, for Merlin's sake. Money and presents were looming in the near future… and then I thought of a priceless bargain.

"Yeah, actually, you two can come with me to the Weasley's for Christmas," I announced, not exactly surprised to see mum's eyes twinkle in laughter when father started hacking coughs.

Hours later, I was in the cosy loft of our house that had become a makeshift game room of sorts for when my friends come over. Having not found Zabini in the dining room, I wandered to the next place he would want to go to, thus we were now packing on weight with an assortment of sweets and juice and fake duelling with our wands.

"So Christmas at the Weasley's, eh?" Zabini asked after dropping down in exhaustion to one of the plush cushions situated on the hardwood floors.

"Yeap," I answered, following him and lying down on two cushions and picked a book from the shelf behind my head. I leafed through the book, an old one by Lewis Caroll and gazed at the pictures without really seeing them. "What of it?" I glared at him, daring him to make a snide comment.

"Nothing, I was just surprised your dad agreed to it."

I shrugged. "Mum's word is law in this house. I have a feeling Hermione told her about it in one of their little heart to heart chats."

"Easily snaking her way into the family, I like that!" Zabini approved.

I sighed, knowing he meant it as a compliment. He was, after all, a Slytherin through and through. If he deemed this act of Hermione's as conniving, then I let it slide. Might as well let her get on his good side.

"Am I invited as well?"

I stared at him, half thinking he had officially lost his mind.

"What?" he asked, after realising I had been looking at him oddly for quite some time. "Am I not allowed to partake in the feast Mrs Weasley will be sure to prepare? Am I not allowed to stand by your side and watch your parents try to socialise with the Weasleys? Am I not allowed to watch an epic disaster in the making? It _is_Christmas after all."

I chucked the book I was holding at his head, missing it by half an inch. Disappointing, but I was never really good at marksmanship anyway.

Doomsday finally arrived. My parents (or rather, father) thought it best if they made a fashionably late entrance, not wanting to arrive early and be forced to make small talk with the older Weasleys with whom they were sure they shared nothing in common with. I, on the other hand, arrived early in the morning on Hermione's now familiar front door and knocked twice and waited for her to answer. As it was too early in the morning, she opened the door sleepily, but otherwise, she was dressed up in muggle clothing and was ready to go.

"What happened to your cloak?" she giggled, scrutinising my clothes as we made our way to her preferred mode of transportation: a maroon death-trap they called a car. Muggles and their silly contraptions.

"After you so rudely demanded I take it off when I last dropped you off here, I would assume you would do so as well today. Hence," I gestured at my overall attire that was my trousers, cashmere jumper and a thick jacket. I knew I would need it as Hermione insisted we 'drive' the way to the Burrow, and that would take some time before we arrived.

"I'm glad you know how to listen then. I'm starting to think this whole training the boyfriend business isn't so bad after all," she said as she revved the engine and the car started moving. I had to hold on to the side of the door for my dear life. Screw the so-called seatbelts she claimed would protect me from ultimate harm. This ride was going to scar me for life.

"You keep talking and I'm Apparating this thing you call a car to the Burrow."

"Against my will?" she tried to look mortified but ended up laughing instead.

Sometimes, I really hated being under the power of a wily female.

HERMIONE

We arrived at the Burrow just in time for brunch. I could hear the Weasleys and (presumably) Harry from the back garden shouting and whooping hysterically. I rang the doorbell and waited until Mrs Weasley came to the door and greeted us with a huge smile on her face.

"Happy Christmas! Hermione dear, so lovely to see you again! And you too, Draco. We're so happy you could join us."

She gave us both quick kisses on the cheeks, which I knew would mortify the beejezus out of Draco. Sneaking a peek at him, I could see his eyes had bugged out and his ears and neck have tinged red at the action.

"Come on in," she ushered us inside and through the living room, dining room and kitchen before we reached the other end in the back garden where everyone had convened for Christmas brunch. "Hermione tells me your parents are coming as well?"

"Erm, uh, yeah, that is, they said they'd follow. I'm not quite sure what time exactly…" Draco trailed off as soon as we were greeted by the loud ruckus that only a family of seven children can be capable of.

Not only were the entire clan of red-headed Weasleys in attendance, but so were the other extended family members. Bill and Fleur were seated on one side of the long table and were conversing with Mr Weasley and Percy. Charlie was on the other end, his feet resting comfortably on the table and was joking around with Remus, Tonks and Sirius. The twins and Ron were going about the garden with guilty looks on their faces, obviously in the middle of a prank whilst Harry and Ginny were in one corner and talking in hushed tones.

"You two go ahead, I still have last minute preparations to make for the food. We'll start eating as soon as Draco's parents arrive."

With that, we were shoved outside into the surprisingly warm December air that I could only deduce that Mrs Weasley bewitched for it to be so we could enjoy the feast outdoors. Taking in a deep breath and preparing for the worst, I clutched Draco's hand and dragged him to the one end of the table where Bill and Mr Weasley were seated in, thinking they were the safest Weasleys to approach for Draco.

Mr Weasley didn't let me down. Offering his widest smile and utmost cheer, he made room for us to sit.

"So I hear you saved Hermione's life, Draco," Mr Weasley said in his ever boisterous tone, one Ron had inherited.

"Erm, no, I wouldn't say that," Draco looked a bit embarrassed. But Draco doesn't do embarrassed, does he? Conceit, yes. Anger, most definitely. Submission? Sometimes, and only to me. But shame? Never. Not even to me. His cheeks coloured slightly, a light pink creeping up his neck and to the sides of his cheeks.

"But you battled Bellatrix for her! That's saying something, boy!"

"I, erm, I ended up in the infirmary for three weeks after," Draco mumbled, apparently not used to praises from people outside his circle that weren't expecting anything else in return.

Bill and Percy chuckled at that. "So did I, mate. That Greyback fellow was one hell of a werewolf, almost sliced me to pieces," Bill said, thumping Draco approvingly on the back. This, I supposed, was something that only the male species can appreciate. I looked to Fleur and saw she was giving her fiancé a disapproving look. And with that, Fleur rolled her eyes and looked at me in surrender as we started our own conversation, knowing what was bound to happen. Soon, the boys were talking about battle scars and the excitement of everything brutal, Draco easily slipping in the conversation like none of the past years of both sides harbouring ill wishes happened.

Fleur and I were in the middle of weighing the merits of a French education versus an English education when Mrs Weasley stepped out from the house with Mr and Mrs Malfoy in tow with just a few steps behind her. Draco looked at them and started laughing quietly as they stepped into the garden. He squeezed my hand, one that he was holding the entire time he was in conversation with the Weasleys, and looked at me. I easily understood the twinkle in his grey eyes was for his father, knowing Lucius Malfoy will have one hell of an uncomfortable time here.

Like a mother hen, Mrs Weasley ushered Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy to the table and told them to sit wherever they wanted as she rounded up Mr Weasley, Bill, Charlie and Percy to help her bring out the heavy plates of food from the kitchen. By magic, plates and utensils floated out from the house and settled themselves neatly on the white covered picnic tables followed by the large serving plates of a vast array of food. There was roasted turkey, ham, scrambled eggs, fried chicken, chips and dip, pasta with red sauce (which I hoped was anything but Puttanesca), rolls of bread and butter and pitchers of orange juice, water and butterbeer.

Lucius and Narcissa were at a loss. On one end was me and Draco with Fleur, Bill and Percy and on the other end was Sirius Black who made no attempt to look at Narcissa mutinously. Had they been back in Hogwarts, I would've guessed he was trying to egg on a long unfinished battle between them.

Taking a hold of her husband's hand, instead of walking over to us, which I expected them to do, Narcissa walked to the other end and sat right next to Sirius. With a bright smile devoid of any anger or malice, Narcissa spoke. "Oh come on, Sirius, you can't still be angry after all these years?"

I saw Sirius tense and grip the butter knife in front of him in a very dangerous manner. "Why can't I?" he retorted viciously.

Narcissa rolled her eyes. "For one: we're sorry for everything that has happened and I had hoped that with Draco and Hermione's union, we have shown that we allied ourselves against the one true enemy. And for another, it was Bella who broke your bloody toy!"

Sirius sneered and crossed his arms over his chest. "One: I accept that and am grateful your kid risked his sorry ass to save Hermione. I was shocked when Lucius joined in the fray and knocked down two Death Eaters, but that was a welcome shock. Two: I trusted you to not tell Bellatrix where I hid it and you just went on and told her where it was hidden anyway!"

"I knew you'd be this way!" Narcissa threw her hands up in irritation. "Just give me the bloody box, Lucius," she snapped at her husband and held out her hand, which to my amusement, made him fumble and drop the spoon he was twirling with his hand to the grassy ground. "Hurry up!" she demanded.

Sighing and completely aware that we were all watching them, Lucius pulled out a box from a small black pouch that was apparently magicked to hold objects bigger than it was. He handed it over to Narcissa's proffered hand silently while Narcissa threw the gift-wrapped box at her cousin.

"There, are you happy now?" she demanded.

Unwrapping said box, Sirius gazed inside with a look of wonder on his face. A small smile crept up on his face before he shut the lid of the box and once more looked very businesslike again. "All is forgiven," he said with a curt nod towards Narcissa and Lucius and kept the box safely tucked into his own pouch that was similar to Lucius'.

"You know, you were my favourite before you became the rebellious arsehole we all hate and love," Narcissa grumbled after Mrs Weasley announced we should all start eating and everyone started their own conversations again.

"I know," I saw Sirius smirk before I dug into my meal that Draco prepared for me whilst I was busy watching the Sirius-Narcissa drama unfold before my very eyes. Apparently, he hadn't found it interesting at all as he was quickly shovelling heaps of food into his mouth and keeping up a conversation with Percy about Ministry job openings and apprenticeship at the same time.

It took a while, but we were all nicely fed and full – a fact proven by Ron's earth-shattering burp. After the plates were cleared, Mrs Weasley then proceeded to bring out a huge, two-tiered cake and a massive tub of ice cream and was met with groans of 'why only now' complaints.

I opted to pick at Draco's mountain of cake a la mode, not bothering to get my own serving. It wasn't like I could eat another bite anyway; I just wanted to taste the wonder that is Mrs Weasley's cooking.

I had slumped on Draco's shoulder, my head in the crook of his neck and picking on his desert like a bird with my fork (I really didn't want to eat anymore, but chocolate mudslide and brownie ice cream? Who could resist?) whilst his left hand was slung over my shoulder, his right arm taking large portions of cake and ice cream and still keeping up his conversation with Percy. I mean no disrespect when I say Percy is the dullest Weasley of the bunch and I am proud that Draco is undergoing all these torture for me. It was then, in the middle of my picking at his food, that large sonic boom sounds erupted from behind us. All of us around the table jumped in horror. I saw Ginny spill juice all over herself and Mrs Weasley duck under the table before Draco instinctively pulled me closer to him and shielded me with his body as I buried my face in his chest.

What happened three seconds later was not unexpected, but very unwelcome.

A loud cheer erupted from Fred and George's end, the twins high-fiving each other and Ron cackling in glee. I looked up to see Harry release Ginny from his hold that was similar to Draco's and glare at our so-called best friend.

"Classic! We should make this an annual thing," George said, slinging an arm over Fred and Ron's shoulder and stared up at the sparkling sky that had been made colourful due to the large amount of fireworks they had set.

"Fred, George and Ron…" I heard Mrs Weasley angry voice shout and turned to see she had gone out from under the table was now standing to her full height. It wasn't much, but it sent the three cowering in terror. "To your rooms! NOW! And no Christmas dinner for you three either!"

"But mum!" Ron complained.

"NOW!" Mrs Weasley bellowed, leaving them no room for explanations.

"It was Fred's idea," George grumbled as they stalked inside the house, their heads bent in what can only be disappointment.

It took another hour for the conversations to die down and for the desert to be wiped clean, but we had managed. Mrs Weasley tidied up with the help of us younger set (claiming that Bill and Charlie had done their part, it was our time to do ours now and so she called the three stooges down from their bedrooms), the expression on Draco's face when Mrs Weasley asked him to do semi-manual labour was priceless. He looked at her in disbelief, barely stuttered a 'pardon?' and looked back at me in defiance before looking back at Mrs Weasley, nodded, and asked what she meant by 'wash the dishes'.

It was Harry who helped him figure out what it meant as he was assigned to dry up and stock the dishes in their rightful place. Ginny was putting the leftovers away as I separated the bones and threw them in the bin whilst Ron, Fred and George took care of the job outside and stashed the chairs and tables in the shed with as much noise as they can make. It took a while, but Draco got the hang of flicking his wand at the plates, glasses and utensils to go to the soapy water and wash them as Harry took over to flick his wand and made them dry before storing them.

I saw Draco shake his head disapprovingly at one time, much to the amusement of Harry.

"Just consider yourself lucky you're seventeen and can do magic outside of school. I once had to do that with my hands," Harry said.

"Your what?" Draco asked, outraged. A plate almost slipped, had I not been fast enough and saved it from eternal doom.

Ginny rolled her eyes at him and gave me a small smile. I shrugged weakly.

Soon enough, we were all called to open presents, much to everyone's delight. It was a sweet moment, as even the Malfoys exchanged gifts with everyone. Narcissa claimed she already gave Sirius a present when he demanded why they haven't given him anything when all the other adults were given expensive antique trinkets that obviously cost a small fortune. He was rebuffed when Narcissa pointed out he hadn't gotten them anything either, to which he justified he didn't think they'd be on good terms and that they'll exchange presents properly next year and thus let the subject drop.

All in all, I received several books from the adults, items from the Weasley Wheezes from the twins, chocolate and sweets from Harry and Ron, a silver charm bracelet from Ginny, a rather expensive looking watch from Lucius and Narcissa and the most beautiful (and possibly most expensive) sapphire and diamond drop necklace from Draco. Hoots of appreciation came from everywhere when they heard my gasp of disbelief, to which Draco flushed pink again.

It was Draco though, that had me smiling all throughout. He, of course, gave everyone presents because I pretty much ordered him to and even picked out several presents myself. But he never expected to receive anything. Much more a present from Harry, which was a book on the greatest Seekers in Quidditch, to which he had to point out that a majority that came from Hogwarts were Gryffindors. Draco shot me a pained look at that but accepted it anyway.

At the bottom of his pile was a bright yellow covered package. All seven Weasley children crowded around him as they waited for him to open it in anticipation. He looked to me, his face a question mark of why they were all watching him like he was novelty to behold. I shrugged. I could never understand the peculiarities of the Weasleys, much as I wanted to.

"Open it!" Fred demanded.

"Erm, okay…" Draco said. He slowly tore open the wrapping paper and pulled out an emerald green wool jumper with a silver D in front.

"I knew it!" Fred whooped in excitement, sending a large smile to his brothers and sister.

Bill chuckled lightly and fingered the jumper. "Welcome to the family, then, mate."

"What are you waiting for? Wear it!" George piped up.

Draco gulped and looked at the jumper studiously. "Next time, I'm a bit warm… erm, what…?"

The twins jumped him, flattened him to the ground and quickly called out for Charlie.

"No! Gerroff! Mmfphhhbblllrrrmmm!" a muffled cry escaped from Draco's lips but to no avail. The brood of Weasleys were too strong for him. He struggled to be set free, but his face was smushed to the side, his arms lifted up against his will as Charlie and Ron tried to force the jumper on him.

It took five minutes, five brothers (with the kind exception of Percy who took pity on him) and several curses and threats until he was finally released. His bright red face contrasted severely with his tousled pale blond hair but matched those of the bright red hair of the smiling Weasleys.

"You're one of us now," Charlie thumped Draco on the back with a satisfied grin.

"Yippee," Draco muttered sarcastically and glared at his offending jumper as if it had committed such a heinous crime. I had to give him credit though, he didn't take off the jumper as he well knew he'd have to go through another tumble of limbs to get it back on him again.

I tried to hide my laughter as I saw how pathetic Draco looked. Even his parents looked on with unconcealed merriment on their faces. But again with the Veela thing, he felt what I felt and laughed along with me even if he didn't feel like laughing at all.

"Traitor," he said icily and glared at me.


	20. How To Train Your Veela

**Chapter Nineteen: ****How to Train Your Veela**

DRACO

The holidays dragged on slowly. After Christmas, I dropped off Hermione at her house (after demanding – okay, pleading, but you shut your mouth – for her to stay with me for the remainder of the hols but was quickly shut down.) and pretty much spent most of New Year's Eve trying to blow up the marble statues lining our driveway. It was a better way to blow off steam rather than sulk around and wait for classes to start again.

It was now a Sunday and classes would start tomorrow, so I was fully packed and ready to leave in a few hours. I just needed one last thing.

I knocked on mum's door impatiently. Ever since that time I walked in on her changing and saw her awful knickers, I made it a point to knock and make sure she's decent. Thank Merlin I've never walked in on Father yet in his gross underwear. Oh no. Mental images in my mind. Why do I torture myself? Thankfully, mum opened the door (decently dressed, thankfully) and distracted my mind from even more images of father in his underwear. Erlack!

She smiled at me fondly and let me in. "What is it this time, love?"

"Mum," I groaned. _Love_? I shuddered.

"Oh shush. You're my baby boy and I can call you anything I want. Be glad I didn't name you Poopy."

"Like Draco is any better," I muttered.

She glared at me. Heh. Not a good time to get on her bad side. I smiled weakly. "What do you want, bub?" she asked, arching an eyebrow and daring me to comment on the endearment.

I ignored the rebellious side of me and shuffled my feet. "I, erm, I kind of need the ring."

The next thing I knew, I was wrapped around her arms tightly and knew I wasn't going to make it out alive. Death by asphyxiation. Thanks mum. Tell Hermione I love her. And if she even dares look at another man, I will haunt her from the afterlife. Assuming there is one, of course.

"Oh my baby!" She sniffled, finally releasing me.

I gulped, hacked and tried to breathe in as much air as I could. Ahh. Life. I'm still alive. I glared at her. "Did you really –"

"Oh shush," she said again and walked off to her vault and rummaged around before coming back and presenting me with the wooden box that had the Malfoy crest on it.

I opened the box to make sure I wasn't being duped into getting a fake one. I studied the ring for a few seconds and nodded my assent once I've made sure it was the right one. "Thanks mum."

"My baby's getting married," she said tearfully and smothered me with kisses.

I sighed. _Baby._ But gave her a hug anyway and left the room.

* * *

Back on the Hogwarts Express. I was late in arriving as my mum was still tearful and had to hug me every chance she got: Before leaving the house. _After_ leaving the house. Before getting on the Platform. Once we were on the Platform. And before I could step inside the train, I kid you not, she tried to kill me again.

Parents.

I looked around for either Hermione or my friends. I finally found Zabini in a compartment with Crabbe and Goyle. Dumping my suitcase on the floor, I was greeted with "hey's", "you got fat", and "fart". Oddly enough, it seems I have missed my friends. We were just catching up and Crabbe was in the middle of his story about his dad (no grudge against me because I'm pure brilliance and I'm his idol. Heh) when the door slid open and then came the face of an angel. So I'm putty in her hands. Whatever. We've already agreed on that long ago.

My friends, being my friends, laughed it up and started in on me.

"Shut up," I said, trying to put an edge on it but I was too happy to see Hermione that I couldn't even attempt to glare at them. "Hey," I said and held her hand, pulling her out the compartment. I didn't want a laugh track accompaniment to come with my first time seeing her again for this year.

"Hi," I said again, once we were safely out of sight of my (and her) friends. I brushed a kiss against her lips. "How was –"

"Why did you not look for me? Especially since I haven't seen you for weeks?" she demanded, not allowing me to finish my sentence. She had her hands on her hips and a stony look on her face.

Oh. On the one hand, it felt good to be wanted after I've done all the chasing after. On the other hand, do I not get to have time with my friends? Woah. I feel like we're an old married couple. Snicker, snicker. Not a bad thought. But oh, have to get back to Hermione. She looks peeved. Hm. Interesting.

"I, uh... You need time with your friends. I thought –"

"Oh no, don't make this about me. You couldn't have at least greeted me for me to know that you're here. You could've gone back to your friends right after, you know."

I gulped. "I know, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. It won't happen again."

HERMIONE

Narcissa was right. This _is _fun. She wrote to me a few days earlier, mostly well wishes, but she also gave me a few pointers on "how to train your Veela", as she so lightly put it.

I narrowed my eyes at him, watching him squirm. I'll have to remember to send Narcissa a thank-you note. And maybe a present as well even if I can't ever repay her for this. What she gave to me is priceless.

I wasn't really too concerned that he didn't come see me first, mostly because I knew he'd look for me anyway sometime today. And also because I didn't particularly want my friends to see the looming PDA we'd be having. But I did miss him and saw this as an opportune moment to "train" him.

"Every time we haven't seen each other for a long time, and by long I mean two days at the very least, you have to make it a point to come to me first before socialising with your friends."

He nodded. "Done."

I grinned. "Don't get me wrong. You can spend as much time as you want with them. All day if you want. But I want to be the first person you see. Even just to say hi, and then you're free to do what you want."

He nodded again. "Of course."

"Now kiss me."

He looked at me hungrily and descended on me, his lips closing in on mine. Ah. That's better. I did miss him a lot. And it's so much more fun now that I've come to terms with having him as my boyfriend. Now I can be free to accept that I love him and miss him when he's not around. And it's also fun to order him around. Hah!

"Ahem." We stopped and turned to look at our audience. Phyllis Hofstadter, Hufflepuff prefect. "Inappropriate conduct in a public area – ten points each from Gryffindor and Slytherin," she said curtly and walked off.

"Classes haven't even officially started yet!" Draco yelled at her retreating back in outrage.

"She's right you know," I said, looking up at him.

"Yeah, well, she still has an unnaturally large stick up her arse," he growled. He then grabbed my hand and pulled me a few doors down until he opened one and practically hurled me inside the dark room and slammed the door shut.

"Did you really have to... where are we?"

I heard a click and a dim light flicked on.

"Oh how original, Draco. Really? A broom closet?"

He shrugged. "It works. And I'd rather not have our housemates aiming hexes at me because if we stay out there, I'd keep docking points from our houses."

"Well, you could've just kept your hands to yourself."

"Impossible," he growled out and cornered me to the wall where he proceeded to molest me.

Is it still called 'molest' if it's consensual? I don't know. I couldn't think. His hands and mouth were everywhere and my brain cells have evaporated. Regardless, I molested him back, tearing at his shirt.

* * *

Days passed. Then weeks. Then months. The school year is almost about over and I have successfully trained my Veela. Whereas it used to have been odd and caused whispers to both students and faculty alike, it's more of a normal occurrence now.

Every morning, without fail, Draco would be waiting for me next to the Fat Lady and we'd walk to the Great Hall hand in hand. It would happen every day that both Harry and Ron found themselves making small talk with Draco. Breakfast would always be time spent with me, lunch he had wherever and dinner depended on what we talked about earlier.

We'd sit next to each other for every class we shared, but we'd never partner up for projects if there was any. Mostly due to the fact that the one time we paired up for Potions, a small part of the ground fizzled in that Snape almost tried to Avada Kedavra us. But we'd be sitting side by side. Him mostly playing with my hair or his hands roaming around my legs and me mostly trying to flick his roving hands.

I'd sometimes be present during Draco's Quidditch practises because, and he knows this, I like to ogle his muscles as he would sometimes take off his shirt when it gets too hot. Or when he just wants to see my eyes on him. During Slytherin-Gryffindor matches, I'd still cheer for my house but wouldn't mind if Slytherin wins. Harry and Ron hate it, but I don't mind. Winning gives Draco a rush of adrenalin and endorphins and I can always count on a heavy snog-fest after.

Hogsmeade visits were usually spent apart because I like to spend time inside the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes which he claims to give him a headache, but he'd always find me at the end of the trip and we'd stroll around quietly holding hands. It was cute at first that he'd try to purchase every single thing I found lovely, but then it started to get on my nerves, seeing as my room is starting to fill up with cool but useless junk. But the turning point was when I saw the cutest baby ever and Draco tried to buy him! The parents were of course furious and when the rest of Hogwarts found out about it, we were tormented for weeks. Professor Dumbledore even had a talk with us, explaining how we were still in school and should we want to have children, it would be better if we finished schooling and got married first. From that day on, I forbade him to buy me anything unless I asked for it. He complied for a while, but then complained that I never asked for anything anyway. To avoid him trying to buy another baby, I'd request for an occasional trinket or pastry or book.

Today, I was hurrying on my way to the lake where I agreed to meet Draco after my Muggle Studies class. Thor Hawthorne, a classmate, had several questions about Muggle government that I lost track of time and realised I was late to meet with Draco.

I saw him leaning against a tree, looking out at the lake, a look of calm in his face.

"Hey," I panted, trying to catch my breath. "Sorry I'm late."

He smiled down at me and brushed a quick kiss on my lips. "No worries. How was class? Learned something you didn't already know?"

"Ha-ha," I said sarcastically. "You know, you should've taken up that class with me. So at least you won't be a bumbling idiot around my parents."

"An adorable bumbling idiot," he smirked. "Besides, I have no use for it. You'll be with me anyway if I screw up. And we'll live in the wizarding world once we're married."

"But what if I want to live in the muggle world?" I countered.

"So you agree?" he asked, his face suddenly serious.

"Agree with what?" I asked, confused.

"That we will be married. Whether we live in the muggle or wizarding world, we will be married?"

"Uh... What?"

He looked to the ground. "Do you think... Do you see yourself someday married to me?"

My heart skipped a beat. He looked up at me, worry lines creased his forehead.

"Sorry," I began and his face looked stricken. "Draco... No," I started again and I saw he was on the verge of hyperventilating. The last time this happened was last year when we still were trying to get over that we loved each other. "I mean, no, don't think that I will not marry you. I will. I'm sorry, you just took me by surprise, happy now?"

His breathing slowed and he shakily sat down on the grass. "Don't do that to me again." He leaned against the tree and closed his eyes, trying to breathe normally again.

I sat down next to him and kissed him lightly on his lips. His hand snaked around my neck and deepened the kiss. He released me after a while and got to one knee and looked me in my eyes. Grabbing my left hand, he asked the question: "Will you marry me?"

I laughed. "Duh." We're practically married anyway and somehow, I can't imagine myself with anyone else. And oddly enough, in a non-Veela way, I think I'd die myself if he finds someone else. Thankfully, that will never happen.

He rolled his eyes and gave me another peck on the lips before sitting next to me again and got out a dark mahogany case with the Malfoy crest carved on the lid and proffered it to me. "It's an engagement ring. It's been passed on for generations. It serves as protection for the person wearing it. There's an enchantment magicked in it. When it senses danger – and by danger, I mean someone trying to rob you and not you forgetting to look both ways when crossing the road – "

I glared at him. "That happened one time!"

He grinned. "It will do something of some sort. I've never really seen it happen, but my mum told me the one time she was attacked by a robber, the ring let loose a puff cloud and the next thing she knew, the man had been stunned."

"Won't your mum need it, though?"

He shrugged. "Not really. After years of wearing it, the enchantment just stays with you, I think. And our connection grows deeper, so if I sense something is wrong, I just automatically find you. It doesn't matter where you are in the world, I'd just Apparate to you."

"Like you have a built in GPS-system, eh?"

"Huh?"

I smiled and shook my head. "Never mind." I opened up the box, preparing myself for another one of the intricacies found only in Malfoy jewellery, but found none of that. It was fair-sized diamond surrounded with tiny zircons and set on a white-gold band.

Draco reached in and took it out of the box and slipped it on my left ring finger. Somehow, seeing him placing it on my finger made me feel happy and warm and just the most comfortable feeling in the world. Like I was going back home from a long holiday away. I looked up at my – oh Merlin – fiancée and saw in his eyes everything I ever needed to know. He loves me. He's my future. He's my (symbolical) home. Leaning back, I snuggled closely to his side, my thoughts wandering.

"Draco," I said after sometime. "Do you think you'd still love me, even if you weren't a Veela?"

He smiled. "Yes. I've thought about this before, back when I couldn't accept that you're destined for me. You're perfect in every way. And I'm not just saying this because I love you, I'm saying it because it's true. Personality-wise, you're the only one who can stand up to me. Not a lot of people can do that. Had I not been a Veela, I would've known that I like you, but I wouldn't act on it because of past prejudice. So it's a good thing I'm a weird creature, or I never would've been this happy."

I snuggled up to him, his warmth comforting me. "I'm glad you're a weird creature, then."

He snickered. "So am I."

_Six months__ later_

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"I'm going to win this argument and you know it, so you might as well give up," I retorted.

"I love you, you know I do, but I refuse to have Potter and Weasley as best men in my wedding. We get along well, but in no way are they close to me."

"But they're _my _best friends, shouldn't they be part of the wedding?" I tried on my best I-love-you-pity-me-and-give-in smile but he refused to look at me, already knowing what was coming up.

"Then by all means have them be your maids-of-honour, I don't give a –"

"You curse, you're not getting any from me."

He glared at me. Yes, I've trained him to be potty-mouth free as well. "Zabini will be my best man," he said, controlling his voice and using a tone that meant serious business and left no more room for discussion. Sometimes, try as I might, there's just no winning arguments with him. Especially now that he's more confident that I love him just as much as he loves me.

He took a few steps closer to me and kissed me, gently at first and then rougher, a few nips and nibbles here and there. This is his leverage in arguments. He's just a damn good kisser, I go putty in his arms.

"Alright, alright," I sighed.

It didn't matter anyway. I just wanted to see him all bossy and domineering because he looks hot like that. Harry and Ron would never agree to it anyway. Besides, I call most of the shots. Like the where and when of our wedding. The house. (No elves in our new home – with this he put up a fight, the longest one we ever had and it lasted a good one hour. He gave in, as he usually does.) The side of the bed we sleep in. Groceries. I just liked the angry kisses and ruffling his feathers a little.

* * *

A/N: What's this? An update? Yes. Believe it. Kinda short. Sorry it took a while for me to put it up. (I also forgot my password to ff! Weird) I won't go into detail with my poor excuses. Just my apologies to everyone who waited a year and a month for this chapter to come out. Thanks to those who still reviewed even after no updates at all! I love you all. And to everyone who added this fic to their favourites, I know you guys don't bother to review, but thanks for reading. I'm still short of a beta, so apologies for any mistake I may have had. I might edit changes to this in the future anyway.

Deathly Hallows is near! Ah! So excited. I have tickets for the opening night and I'm yay excited. Jamie Campbell is love. I can't believe it's the end for the films! Sad. But going back from my ramblings. Thanks everyone. I think I still have one last chapter to post (a bit of an epilogue of sorts, but still unsure) and I'm sure it'll be up way before the next Deathly Hallows. Haha! I kid.

Please review! xx Sloane


	21. Happily Ever After

**Chapter Twenty: Happily Ever After**

DRACO

After much planning (most of which I left up to the ladies of the family, and by that I mean my mother, Hermione's mother, Hermione and Mrs Weasley) and months and months of waiting, the wedding finally happened.

FINALLY.

I didn't really care much about it, honestly. I just wanted my ring on her finger, my last name tacked on after her first name, and the whole world to know that she's mine and to back off. But she wanted something grand (or, well, my mum did) so a grand celebration we had.

Here are the highlights of the wedding:

Hermione was obviously gorgeous. She had on this little number that showed her back but was conservatively covered with see-through lace. It made me want to rush the minister with the whole ceremony thing and rip it off her.

Erm. Let's see, what else?

Hm.

Yeah, that's about it. I suppose the place looked nice, decorated with white and purple flowers of some sort, and Weasley and Potter didn't make too much of a mess, so that's always good. The reception that followed was alright. The food was impressive and the drinks kept refilling themselves. Guests got plastered and everyone was happy. My friends made me look like a complete idiot after letting on that I had nothing to do with the ladies at my stag party because I'm whipped. Yeah, yeah, so I love my fiancée, is that so much of a crime? Besides, those girls in the stag party couldn't hold a candle to my Hermione.

We then apparated to the Caribbean where we spent our honeymoon week locked up in one of the best rooms of the best hotel they had to offer. I can't even explain how wonderful it felt to finally have her. How can I say this without sounding too obscene?

See, when a Veela and his mate, you know, _mates_, that's the one time both of them can feel each other's feelings. So our pleasure during the act (if you know what I mean) intensifies more so than the average couple. So yeah, I was a very busy boy the whole seven days we were there.

At the moment, we were at Hermione's parent's house in her old room, packing her belongings that she'd like to move to our new house. She agreed she wanted to live in the wizarding world (score one for me) and near the Weasley's (retracted score for me), so we purchased the lot next to theirs. Hermione says Ron and the twins were thinking of buying the other lots around them so they could still be near their parents, so it works out just great when we're all grown up. Our kids will have a jolly old time growing up together. Please, feel the sarcasm.

I fell back on Hermione's bed after an hour of packing her most prized books into boxes. "Let's take a break," I said, pulling my arm over my head and closing my eyes. The amount of books we packed rivalled the amount of books we had in the Malfoy library.

"Sorry, are you tired?" Hermione asked, sitting next to me and brushing my hair off my face.

I opened one eye to look at her. "A bit," I admitted.

Closing my eye again, I felt her lean over and brush her lips over mine. I smiled and kissed her back. Its times like this that make me feel like the luckiest man on Earth. Hermione, as I've learned during our honeymoon, is a very affectionate person and would kiss me at the most random moments, just because she wanted to. Before our marriage, I was used to being the one who initiated anything remotely romantic. I never thought much of it as she always returned my advances enthusiastically, but now that she'd go out of her way to hug me or kiss me or even just hold my hand and lean on me, well, that's something, alright.

She sighed and lay down next to me, her head on my shoulder and her arm around my torso. I pulled her closer to me and started trailing my hand up her shirt and just under her bra. I was about to score too, were it not for her own hand stopping mine from going anywhere else.

"What?" I asked, looking at her innocently. "Don't tell me you don't want to." Trust me, most of the times back in the Caribbean, it wasn't me doing the seducing. Well, okay, half the time it was me.

"Not in my parent's house!" she hissed.

I groaned in disappointment. Old Hermione was back and Caribbean Hermione was nowhere to be seen. Acquiescing, I placed me hand a respectful distance away from where I wanted it, but stubbornly kept it under her shirt. The feel of her skin was just too warm for my hand to go elsewhere.

She kissed my chin. "When we arrive at our new house, let's christen the new bed we bought, shall we?" she smiled, kissing my nose first before descending on my lips.

I kissed her back, strongly and persuasively, until she was under me and mindless that she just asked me to stop as I started undressing her. A few minutes passed, and she had returned the favour with much fervour as I had, when she abruptly stopped and lightly pushed me away.

"My parents could walk in on us any second."

"We're married, it's not like we're doing anything wrong," I countered.

"No," she said. "But still, it's not right to do it under their roof. Come on, if we finish packing, we can go to _our_ home and do whatever we want."

I childishly blew a raspberry at her but rolled of the bed nevertheless and helped her back into her clothes.

"Alright, alright," I grumbled, once she was fully dressed. I started buttoning up my shirt again and went back to her dresser where she kept some of her collection of books.

"Do you need this dictionary with you?" I asked, showing her an old blue Collins dictionary that has clearly been overused. "We can just get a new one."

"I want it."

I raised an eyebrow.

"What?" She asked. "It'd be a waste to buy a new one when I have a perfectly good one with me."

"I do own several dictionaries, you know. None of them as tattered as this one."

"Yeah, but this one has writings on the sides. Information that I might need someday."

I sighed and gave in, packing it into one of her boxes next to me.

We were quiet for a while, as I filled boxes with books and she filled boxes with clothes and other sentimental objects from her childhood. I stopped at a moleskin notebook, knowing immediately that it was a journal. Wondering what went on in her mind as a child, I opened it and started reading.

There was nothing new to learn though. Hermione, at the age of eleven, was every bit as clever and curious as she is today. She read a lot of books, but that's no surprise. Her room was covered with books, some of them stacked up on the floor next to the wall as she's run out of room on her bookshelves. She watched a lot of historical television shows, wondering how it felt to live in the middle ages. She wrote of a friend at school whom she was particularly close to. There was a part of me that ached to be that friend. That friend whom she'd share her lunch with and spend Saturdays and Sundays with. This notebook appeared to be the summer before she was to leave for Hogwarts and she felt unsure if she'd ever see Maggie (her friend) again.

"Darling?" I called out.

"Yeah?" she grunted, her body nowhere to be seen, but her voice sounded like she was halfway under her bed.

"Whatever happened to Maggie?"

"Who?"

"You know, Maggie, your childhood friend before you went to Hogwarts."

"Oh. Erm. She's off to uni in Scotland."

"Ah."

I went back to my reading but seconds later, Hermione's head popped up from the other side of her bed.

"Hey! How do you know about Maggie?"

I held up the notebook I was reading.

"That's my journal! HOW DARE YOU READ MY JOURNAL!" she shrieked, climbing on top the bed and charging at me.

"Woah," I said, holding my hands up in surrender, "is there something in here I shouldn't know about?"

"That's private property –"

"Is there a boyfriend in here I should know about?" I narrowed my eyes at her and kept the journal out of her reach. "Because I swear, I will hunt him down and kill him."

"You married me, that should be good enough," she retorted. "Now give it here."

"I don't think so," I said and raised the journal higher and started scanning through the pages faster, looking for that old boyfriend of hers.

"I was eleven then, of course I wouldn't have a boyfriend. Now give it!"

"Just one moment," I said, holding her away from me and the notebook even further away from her.

"How would you feel if I read your journal? If I know every single thought that ran through that mindless head of yours when you were younger?"

I shrugged. "You know everything there is to know about me, darling. I tell you everything. I think I did keep several journals on and off before. I'll give them to you."

"But," she said, still trying to claw her way to her journal. "You can't do this. It's against my will!"

"Hm." I thought of that for a second. "There's nothing stopping me. I think you subconsciously want me to read this."

"I don't, I really don't," she said but gave up and sat on her bed, sulking.

My eyes widened at the last entry. Her Mr Darcy, eh? Who the hell is Mr Darcy?

_My very own Mr Darcy should be:_

_Articulate  
Handsome  
Well-groomed  
Well-travelled  
Sweet  
Intelligent  
Cultured  
_…_and will only love me. No one else._

A fictional character, from the looks of it. It looked to be a list of characteristics her future boyfriend should have. I grinned. She was smart _and_ psychic.

"Sweetie, look at that. You picked me to be your husband even before you met me!" I exclaimed, excitedly sitting down next to her and gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

"What?"

I pulled her against me with my arm wrapped around her side and shared the journal with her. "See? You wanted someone articulate," I waved my free hand at my body, showing her one very articulate man.

She rolled her eyes.

"Handsome, no question about that," I grinned and looked at her, rubbing my nose against hers. She was annoyed, that much I knew, but she was amused as well. She wouldn't show it but I do have my Veela senses. "Well-groomed, well-travelled... Check and check. Sweet. I'd say I'm sweet, yeah?"

"No," she answered petulantly.

"Of course I am," I said, dismissing her childish antics and kissed her again on her temple. "Intelligent, check. I ranked second in the class, just right after you. Cultured, why of course. And lastly –"

She groaned.

"Will only love you and no one else."

There was a pregnant pause, her eyes averted away from me.

"Hey," I said softly I cupped her chin and tilted her head to face me and looked her in the eye, dead serious this time. "I love you. I'm so in love with you, it frightens me sometimes. What if I'm not good enough for you? What if I can't ever live up to your expectations? I know I can be a real pain sometimes, but I honestly love you and will never love anyone else the way I love you."

"Oh shut up," she shoved me away, but I could tell she was touched.

I kissed her again, just a way to convey my emotions. I hated being so mushy but I wanted her to know what I felt at that moment.

"I love you too," she said. "And you can never fail me. I mean, you're smart but you can be an idiot at times, but that's alright. Because when it comes to the big things, you never let me down."

I smirked. "And I never will," I said and playfully reached for her hand and pressed it to my crotch.

"Draco!" she yelled and pushed me off the bed.

"What?" I said, laughing on the floor. "It's big!"

EPILOGUE

_10 years later_

The doorbell rang and Hermione Malfoy rushed to get it, knowing her husband and two children were busy in the living room doing "boy stuff".

Her two little boys, Simon, four years old, and Paul, eight years old, always had Wednesday lunch with their father. Draco Malfoy was a rather busy man, but he was devoted to his family. Weekends were for him, the missus and the children, whereas Wednesday lunch was just for him and the boys. He made it a point to come home for lunch on Wednesdays or asked Hermione to drop them off work when she wasn't busy with work herself. As a writer, Hermione had her time to herself, so it was alright.

"Hermione!" Narcissa greeted her, stepping into the foyer and kissing her cheeks before hanging her coat on the nearby coat rack.

"Hullo Narcissa, Sirius," she said with a smile and gave Sirius a kiss on the cheek as well.

"You look well, Hermione," Sirius said, giving her a big hug.

"Thank you," she replied, leading the way to the drawing room.

It was Harry's birthday in just two days and Mrs Weasley wanted all the surprises she could get for him. Sirius insisted that he wanted something grand for his godchild and Narcissa wanted to help. Ten years after repairing their broken relationship, Narcissa has made enormous progress in winning back Sirius and has even taken a liking to Harry, considering him as much a godson to her as he was to Sirius, much to Draco's dismay.

"I know he's not much for a ballroom, but I really, really think –"

"Narcissa," Sirius warned.

"What? Molly invited so many guests, do you really think they would fit in your house?"

"It's Harry's birthday, we should at least respect that he doesn't want it in your house where a guest would break a vase and he'd feel guilty –"

Narcissa sniffed. "It was just a thought."

"Narcissa, Sirius, if I may?" Hermione cut in, not wanting another childish argument. For every get-together they'd have, Narcissa and Sirius managed to create a little disagreement that would last for hours.

"Sure," Sirius said warmly.

"Well, remember that Christmas ten years ago? It was the first time you and Narcissa had Christmas together after so many years."

"Oh yeah, lovely Christmas, that one. Poor Draco, being bullied into wearing that jumper."

Hermione laughed. "Yes, well, you remember the present Narcissa gave you? The one they hid from you?"

"Yes," Sirius said and narrowed his eyes at Narcissa, past feelings being brought back.

"I gave it back, didn't I?" Narcissa retorted.

"Yes, that one, well, Harry's always been curious what it was that had you so peeved. You could tell him the story of how that happened and I promise you he'd love that."

Sirius crossed his arms, unsure if he was willing to tell the story.

"Oh yes!" Narcissa clapped her hands. "I have it all in my pensieve as well."

"What? No!" Sirius adamantly disagreed.

"Oh come on now Sirius. Make your godchild happy," Narcissa insisted.

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Seriously? Were you two always like this?" Hermione interrupted.

"Yes," they both answered.

"Well if you don't like that idea, then we'll just have to think of another present."

"It's a lovely idea," Narcissa said and turned to look at Sirius. "That was years ago, it should be fine. Harry would love it."

Sirius sighed. "I guess. Alright. Bring a pensieve, we'll share it with him on his birthday."

"Lovely," Hermione said, smiling brightly at them. "Out of curiosity, what did happen? What was the present you gave him?"

"Oh it's Bubba," Narcissa smiled, patting Sirius on the hand affectionately. Sirius glared back at Narcissa but said nothing. "Up until the age of seven, Sirius would carry this blue and pink stuffed teddy bear with him wherever he went. Even out in public. He called him Bubba."

"Don't talk of Bubba like he's dead," Sirius sniffed.

Narcissa rolled her eyes. "Well when Sirius turned eight, he stopped bringing Bubba everywhere he went, because of the looks he was getting from other people, so he hid him."

"I only told Narcissa where it was because she asked but I told her not to tell Bellatrix because I knew she'd do something to him. And I was right."

"I'm sorry, alright? He's with you now, isn't he?"

Sirius refused to look at Narcissa but acknowledged that Bubba was nice and safe with a curt nod. Narcissa just rolled her eyes.

A half hour of tea later, Sirius and Narcissa were back in good terms and made to leave, but not without stopping by to say hi to the kids.

They found Draco lying down comfortably on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table. Simon was on his lap and Paul sat next to him.

"So there I was, minding my own business in Potions when your mother started coming on to me. She started asking me out, but Pansy, you know Aunt Pansy, yeah?"

"Yeah," the children nodded, transfixed by their father's story.

"Yeah, well Pansy really fancied me as well. So your mom had to fight for my love –"

"Oh really?" Hermione interrupted, standing by the doorway and looking at her husband incredulously.

"Oh, hello love, didn't notice you there," Draco said with a smile that always swept her off her feet.

"That's not quite how I remember it," Narcissa added, siding with Hermione. "I remember you were so helplessly in love with Hermione but she never gave you the time of day."

"Mum!" Draco whined and tried to cover Simon's ears. "Don't listen to grandma, she's old and senile and doesn't know what she's talking about."

"No she's not!" Simon said and ran to Narcissa and Sirius to give them hugs. Paul followed and gave them hugs and kisses as well.

"Great, now my kids will never know how their parents got together," Draco complained but grudgingly went over to his mother and gave her a kiss on the cheek and greeted Sirius with a manly embrace.

"If you want them to know the real story, you shouldn't lie to them," Narcissa tutted. "Now your father's coming home Friday morning and we'd love to have you over for dinner, would that be alright?"

"Erm, Hermione?" Draco asked.

"Sure, we'll be there. What time?" Hermione answered.

"Around seven would be lovely."

"Seven it is then," Hermione smiled. "Give grandma and great-uncle Sirius a kiss now boys," she told Paul and Simon after Narcissa gestured they'd be leaving.

After several hugs and kisses and having ushered Narcissa and Sirius out the house, Draco and Hermione went back into the living room with their boys.

"So what did you guys do with daddy today?" Hermione asked them, looking at them fondly.

She loved how they were a perfect mixture of her and Draco. The boys had striking pale blond hair and grey eyes, just like their father, but their nose, lips and high cheekbones they got from their mother.

"We played Quidditch!" Simon said, referring to the mini-Quidditch games they'd have. They had the small broomsticks that would only fly a foot from the ground.

"And daddy told us how you two met," Paul said.

"All lies, I'm sure," Hermione said, rolling her eyes at Draco who feigned innocence.

"Daddy said he really loved you but it was very difficult," Simon said, his face scrunching up, trying to remember the details.

"You didn't love him first," Paul spoke up. "Is it true, mummy? Because you love daddy very much."

"Of course I love daddy very much, but you know how annoying he can be sometimes," Hermione said.

"Like that time he threw powder at you in the kitchen?" Simon asked.

"Yeah," Hermione said, remembering when Draco threw pancake flour at her as a means of a good morning greeting one day. "Exactly. But I love him now and that's all that matters."

"Yeah you do," Draco said with a big smile and placed a sloppy kiss on her lips.

"So what was the me coming on to you story?" Hermione asked.

Draco shrugged. "The boys wanted to hear different versions of the story. I was doing a choose your own adventure type thing with them."

"Ah," Hermione said. "Well then," she settled on the couch and entangled her feet with Draco's on the coffee table, placing Simon on her lap and Paul on Draco's. "Tell us more."

**END**

* * *

**AN:** I said I'd be posting the epilogue before Deathly Hallows 2 came out and I'm sticking to that promise. I'm so sorry it took forever to update, but I really had no idea how to end this. I'm not quite sure I even like this ending. Eh. If you find it as crappy as I do, I truly apologise. Send me requests on how you would've wanted it to end and I might do it as a one-shot. To those who have stuck around, thank you so much! You guys are the best. To my new readers, I really hope you liked it. :)

To **alina290** - since you wanted to know what gift Sirius received, I wrote that in for you. I just hope you're still reading this. :)

On another note, some people have been requesting for a sequel and I don't think that's happening. I might come up with one-shots though of Hermione and Draco just doing random things or whatever which will be connected to this story. If you think you'd like to read more of that (and other full-length stories that WILL NOT take me years to finish – this won't ever happen again), add me to your Author Alerts list as I prob won't be updating this anymore except for future editing.

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, added this story to their favourites, added me to their favourite authors and just plain read this story. When I first started this with Skye, I didn't even think anyone would read this, but you guys did. I give you all virtual hugs. You guys rock.

So goodbye, thanks for everything, and let's all have a good cry when Deathly Hallows 2 premieres. See you all in Pottermore! Hogwarts, here we come! :) If you need to get in touch with me regarding this story or any future stories, send me a PM and I'll get back to you. xx Sloane


	22. Chapter 22

Hi, sorry if I led you guys to believe that this is an update, as it's not. The story's finished and I've decided I like the way I ended it. I will still come up with one-shots, but this ending is the real deal.

A few days earlier, a reviewer on HPFF said that s/he has a good idea for a sequel and would want to take my title and continue my story two months after the wedding. Sorry, but I don't want other people taking my title and plot and making it their own. I don't want to sound horribly mean about this, but I've worked hard on this story. It's my first ever completed story and I feel really good about it. Please come up with your own story. Make it a fluffy Veela story as well, just as I did mine, but please don't take my story.

I understand that a lot of other people wouldn't even bother asking and I truly appreciate that you asked, so I'm sorry that I have to say no.

Again, thank you to all my readers. You're all lovely. xx


	23. Plagiarisers! Plagiarisers everywhere!

Greetings, story dweller!

Sorry to disappoint, this is NOT an update. This is a completely pissed off author writing to say that I am quite appalled by the people on the internet stealing my work. As much as I love my readers and reviewers, it's safe to say that I am never posting a story online anymore. Ever.

That's all, really. For those curious enough:

1) Some person who loves Harry of 1D on QuoteTV took my story and posted it there. She literally just copy-pasted it. Tut-tut. If you're reading this: You, my dear, are quite rude. I don't understand why you would do that seeing as any review you receive, whether good or bad, would still be a reflection of MY work. How does this, in any way, help you? At least you gave a small, tiny credit to me. Pfft.

2) ANOTHER person on QuoteTV who goes by Julie made a sequel to my story. After having just said that I do not want anyone ripping off my work! Please refer to the previous chapter. After all that I've been through to write a series of short stories as a sequel to this story (that I wanted to complete before posting so my readers wouldn't have to wait a year again), I find that someone else beat me to it. Erm. Yeah. That wasn't exactly my vision of how it was going to go, but whatever, she's ruined it now.

3) Julie, person mentioned above, has stated in her 2nd chapter of _Troubles with Marriage _(what even kind of a title is that? It's immature and something I would never have chosen!) that the person who wrote Don't Touch My Mudblood (that would be me) gave permission for her to write the sequel. For the record, I did not give ANYONE permission to continue my story because I had legit plans for it. And even if I did, I would choose one with better grammar and syntax. Come on.

4) I didn't exactly read the whole story, but I'm assuming it's just an outlet to write bad smut.

5) I know it's fan fiction and I don't exactly have copyright on anything and that this is the internet, people are bound to be (insert insulting adjective here), so I don't even know why I'm this affected.

I'm not taking down this story. What's the point, it's already up on other sites anyway. I'll leave it here so other people can still read the story from the original source.

Although, I must say, I've been seeing really good writers on Fictionpress taking down their stories because of the many plagiarisers out there. While I am absolutely disgusted by the lot of them, this has fed my ego a little!

So, thanks for the memories. I suppose I'll still continue to write, but not for public consumption. It's just such a waste of effort. Who knows, I might be legit published one day, then I can actually fight for my copyright. Haha!

xx


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